


Split In Two

by ThatPotatoWhoWrites



Series: Halved [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Sith Padmé Amidala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 58,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24032290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatPotatoWhoWrites/pseuds/ThatPotatoWhoWrites
Summary: There is a dark and powerful entity that resides within the deepest recesses of Padmé’s mind, unbeknownst to her. Only Sidious has the power to determine whether this evil, or Padmé herself, is conscious and in control of her body and he has no issue using this entity to manipulate the war in his favour.Can the Jedi figure out who the new Sith on the battle field is, or will she evade them completely?
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Yoda, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Yoda, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Halved [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765438
Comments: 49
Kudos: 87





	1. Malice

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the story! I just wanted to say before we began, that Padmé’s condition is in no way representative of DID. People with that disorder are no more likely to be violent than you or I but have received an aggressive reputation in the entertainment industry. This story is not about DID and I just wanted to clarify that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Padmé could feel a headache developing between her brows. The small text on the holopad in front of her blurred in and out of focus. Bright daylight poured into her office from the huge windows behind her. Streams of traffic could be seen hovering over the city's never ending skyline. The room was quaint and cosy. A small rectangle of couches was pushed into the corner of the room for the occasional meeting. Her desk, that was currently covered in holopads, was backed up against the gargantuan windows and on the opposite end of the room from her doors. A sweet perfume lingered in the air. Silence rang in her ears. A nervous buzz filled her mind. Today was the day she had to give a speech at the galactic peace senate. It was going to be her first time acting as a speaker and never before had she felt so jittery.

The office door slid open with a soft whoosh. Padmé hurriedly typed in a few more sentences into her script that lay before her. Footsteps grew close to her desk. Lifting her head, she sent her guest a gentle smile. The man was old and wore purple robes of fine material. From the her perspective, he was nothing more than a sweet old man. "Chancellor Palpatine, how can I help you?" She asked politely, placing her datapad onto the desk.

"As much as I enjoy your company, it's not you I need my dear," he told her. Her brows furrowed together and she cocked her head to one side. Reaching out, he waved a hand in front of her face. A cold feeling washed over her, seeping into her bones. The world around her became hazy and distant. Slowly she began to loose feeling in her body. A volatile darkness rose within her, clawing its way to her consciousness. It completely encompassed her senses and drove her into the depths of her own mind. After a few minutes of staring into the distance with a glossy eyed, blank expression, her features sharpened into an ugly snarl. "It's been some time, Malice," Sidious greeted her.

Malice's stormy gaze flicked up to him. Standing to her feet, the chair she was sat upon clattered to the floor. Excess fabric swooshed around her ankles. Staring down at herself in horror, she realised she was wearing a long, elegant dress made of silky material. A snarl tore from between her lips. Something heavy was weighing down on her head. Lifting her hands, she felt a huge metal object that had her hair delicately woven throughout it. In one motion, she tore it off her head, her hair slipped seamlessly from its grasps and cascaded around her shoulders. Lifting her eyes to Sidious, she bared her teeth. His was an empty, void like presence. The darkside allowed her to see through his camouflage and at the evil that lay beneath. Anything in his path was sucked up and spat it as a horrific malformation of its original state. Yet from the outside he appeared as nothing more than somebody’s doting grandfather.

"Another one of these stupid dresses,” she hissed. Casting an eye around the office, a deep growl rumbled from within her. "Where the kriff am I?"

"You are in Padmé's senatorial office," Sidious responded calmly, folding his hands into his robes.

Malice kicked off the ridiculous heels that entrapped her feet. Stalking around the desk towards him, she kept her eyes trained on the Sith Lord. "How long has it been?" her voice was deep, guttural.

Sidious turned around towards her, his lips pressed into a tight line. "Several years," he informed her, his tone adopting a slight edge. Malice came to a halt directly in front of him, her nails curled into her palms. Years. It had been years since she had been in control of her body. A spark of anger ignited a burning bonfire within her. "I am in need of your assistance," he told her sternly. Sidious stared at her blankly.

"Why should I help you?" Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits. "Isn't it you that has left me imprisoned within my own body for years?" she growled, taking a menacing step forwards. Her breath was heavy and her chest tight. In her mind she could see all the colourful ways she could hurt him and torment him, but she held back. There was no way he would ever let her hurt him whilst he still had completely control over her access to her mind.

"The galaxy is submerged in war at the moment," Sidious let out a small sigh, stepping around her and striding to the large glass window. Peering out of it, he rolled his shoulders. "The republic is battling a very bloody war against the Separatists, whom I’m sure you remember. Millions are dying every day." Malice crept to his side. Coruscant buzzed before her very eyes. Heavy streams of traffic poured through the sky. She could feel their life force humming and buzzing around the hundreds in the senate building and millions more on Coruscant. "If you help me now, I will be more likely to employ your help again in the future. There are a lot of beings in the galaxy that I need dead or straightened out." Malice's attention perked at his. A wash of prickling goosebumps raced over her skin. What she would give to feel the thrilling rush of the darkside when she strangled the life out of a victim was nearly limitless.

"What is it you need?" she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. A coy smile curved his lips as he peered out the corner of one eye towards her.

"At the current moment, the republic is using the Jedi to lead their war," Sidious explained. Malice's brows puckered. The Jedi were supposedly peace mediating creatures. The very fact they were running a war contradicted their very existence. "A few Jedi and their troops are currently holding a siege on Repattetti, the capital of Trongo. Trongo is the main provider for the metal the Separatists use to create their battle droids. Without out its supply of material, I'm afraid the war would be over very quickly." Malice's brows shot up. Last she checked, he had been the senator for Naboo. Sidious was playing both sides of the war? What could he possibly get from wrecking havoc all across the galaxy? "I'm sending you to my apprentice, Count Dooku. He will brief you on your mission to liberate the planet from republic clutches."

"What's in all of this for you?" she snapped, turning her body to face him. "Why puppeteer such chaos?"

"You will see in time," he chuckled, angling himself towards her. "That is of course, if you accept my offer." There was an unspoken threat lying behind his words. If she didn't to help him, she might never see the light of day again. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she jutted out a hand towards him. With a delighted cackle, he enveloped it in his own and gave her a firm handshake.


	2. Debriefing

Malice leaned against a large, circular holoprojector. It's blue glow was the only thing lighting the small room she was in. Hovering over its concave surface was the large, cross-sectioned image of the Repattetti Royal Palace. There were hundreds of long corridors and cavernous halls, but the part that intrigued her most was the intricate network of ventilation shafts. Across from her stood a tall man in fine clothing. He had silver, sleeked back hair and a well groomed beard. A long knobbly finger was directing her through the winding vents she would have to crawl through. "You must only enter the throne room after the fighting begins and be careful to watch out for the traps and soldiers that will be patrolling the vents," he told her. It was strange to her, how different this man was to Maul. Sidious couldn't have chosen a more opposite apprentice. Perhaps that's why Dooku was chosen. Maul had been killed by a Jedi Padawan after all. 

The mask that was secured tightly to her face shifted as she scrunched up her features. It was relieving, to feel the cold length of her light sabres pressing against her hips. No longer was she wearing that ridiculous dress, but a tight, form fitting armour. Malice felt as though she were finally in her own skin.

Dooku waved his hand and the hologram shifted to the image of two men. They stood back to back, swinging a lightsaber aggressively through the air. The breath caught in her throat. One of the men had a fluffy, full beard and wise, calculating eyes that had begun to show cracks of age. It took her a moment to recognise him, after all Sidious had only shown her holos of him. This was the man who had killed Maul. The padawan braid and rounded cheeks were nowhere to be seen. It startled her how he had aged so drastically, but he wasn't the one that really caught her attention. 

The other man had sharp, angled features and long hair that was cut just above his shoulders. When she looked upon his face, her heart skipped a beat. It startled her because at first she thought she was dying, but then warmth began to tingle in her chest. Beneath the tight mask on her face, her upper lip curled in disgust. This unwarranted attraction she felt for that man was most certainly not hers. Malice was fairly certain she physically could not feel any kind of attachment to other people aside from one built on hatred. That left only one explanation for her revolting delight upon seeing this man. These were traces of Padmé's affection. Fear stirred deep within her. Never before had she been able to feel Padmé’s emotions towards other people. 

"Generals Kenobi and Skywalker will be in the throne room protecting the king," Dooku informed her, flicking back to the previous holo image and zooming in on the large chamber he spoke of. "When I draw them away from the throne and into battle, you will kill the king and take his heirs hostage. Only then can we drive the Republic forces from the surface of Trongo." 

Malice crossed her arms over her chest. "If you need the cooperation of the Trongonian supplies, then why are you killing their king?" she cocked her head to one side. Her voice was warped and robotic, due to the scrambler in her mask. "Sidious told me the Jedi were holding a siege on the capital. If you free the monarchs, won't they be more likely to aid you?" 

"The siege is only a front," Dooku grumbled, frown lines etched into his forehead. "The king struck a deal with the republic; if the Jedi could free them from Separatist control, then the resources from Trongo would be offered to them instead of us." The darkside swirled around him. "A grave mistake on his behalf."

"So you intend to traumatise his heirs into remaining in alliance with you?" she pressed further.

"Exactly," he hummed. Perhaps it was wise of Sidious to choose someone so different from Maul. This man seemed to be a lot more calculative and controlled, a great attribute for war. "My master has instructed me to remind you, you are supposed to carry out each and every one of my commands to the letter," Dooku told her sternly.

Malice crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm aware of that," she snapped.

"Good," Dooku hummed, stopping before her. "Then you'll also know that if you disobey orders he will 'deactivate' you, regardless of where you are." Malice clenched her jaw. Sidious's grip on her mind was obvious. Even when he wasn't around, she could feel his dark haze floating nearby. At the snap of his fingers he could just yank Padmé back into the body and lock Malice in her prison. The thought made her hair stand on end.

"It amuses me, that you have no idea what you are speaking about and yet you still faithfully parrot to me what Sidious has told you to say," she commented, turning her body to face him. From the disguise she wore, she could tell he didn't know anything about her or her past with Sidious. His lips tightened. "You don't even know who I am, do you?" she taunted him, leaning forwards. From the Sith's sudden rigidity, she found her answer. "It seems your master is using you just as much as he uses me."

"We all have our value," Dooku huffed, narrowing his eyes to slits. "You'd better hope you don't loose yours."

*

The sounds of battle rumbled all around Anakin. The storm troopers were restless. Tall marble columns rose all around them and suspended a colourful roof that was decorated with intricate murals. A humongous arching doorway, filled by steel blast doors, took up the majority of the wall in front of him. If he turned around, he would have been able to see the mountain of curving steps that rose to a golden throne that was protected by a shimmering, blue field. Atop it sat a bat-like man with two, huge ears that poked out from underneath a shimmering crown. Black fur puffed over his satin clothes. At each of his arms two much smaller, bat-like children sat on finely carved stools. It was all rather ridiculous, in the Jedi's opinion. The only reason the king was willing to aid the republic was because it would bring him more credits that aligning himself with the separatists.

Even still, Anakin stood with Obi-Wan in front of a huge number of troopers that were scattered strategically across the room. The two most noticeable clusters were the ones on either side of the throne-room doorway. A loud boom rattled the very floor beneath them. Anakin's communicator blared to life on his arm. Pressing down on the button, he withheld a sigh. "We have a breach general. Dooku is heading your way with a company of droids," a gruff voice barked down the line, echoed by hundreds of blaster shots.

"Hold down the palace foya and try not to let any more troops through Rex," Anakin commanded, abruptly ending the transmission when the huge doors in front of him began to shift and groan. Obi-Wan shouted for the clones to ready themselves. Pulling out his sabre, he turned his head over his shoulder to stare back at the king. "Please remain inside the blast shield, your majesty. It is the only way we will be able to keep you alive." The king's beady eyes slowly closed over, but he dipped his head. The heavy doors sunk into the ground, revealing Dooku leading a vast army of militantly lined battle droids that filled the grand corridor beyond.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you in person, Dooku?" Obi-Wan chirped in a deceptively amiable voice. 

Dooku narrowed his eyes. "I thought you were a man above petty small talk," the Sith drawled, pulling out his crimson blade and igniting it.

"I'm flattered you think so highly of me," Obi-Wan retorted. Anakin simply rolled his eyes and ignited his lightsaber. In seconds, the room descended into chaos. Blasterfire filled the air. Charges exploded and vibrated the floor. There was the constant nip of clone lives being tugged back into the force. The two Jedi engaged the Sith in a fierce burst of combat. Anakin's heart was pounding. Left, right and centre he was dodging blaster bolts, lightsabers and chunks of droid that were littered across the room. He became so drawn in to the duel, that the world around him dissolved into a hazy blur. Obi-Wan and him fell into a synchronised dance as they swiped at the Sith and took turns trying to draw in his attention. It was only the sound of a high pitched scream that tugged him back to himself.

The three force wielders froze in unison. Their battle had taken them to the base of the curving steps, just outside the blast shield. Anakin's mouth hung agape. The lightsaber still hummed in his hands. Standing with a foot on each arm of the throne, a hooded, armoured woman was holding the king from the nape of his neck as though she were an annoyed mother cattent disciplining it's troublesome child. His feet kicked uselessly in the air, his shouts of protest fell on deaf ears. The two children by her side rose to their feet, one reaching out to aid their father. The relentless whip of the dark side coiled around them and dragged them back down to their seats. Her force presence was completely black. It sent off nauseating pulses of darkness that left a cold touch on his mind. He wasn't sure how she had snuck up on them. The only possible way she could have slipped by their defences was through the vents, but they were heavily patrolled. If that was the way she had found her way into the room, he had a sick feeling all of the soldiers in the vents would be dead. The clones and droids were still relentlessly firing upon one another.

"Let him go," Anakin growled up at the woman. The inscrutable, blank mask she wore tilted down towards him. Lifting her other hand, she roughly grabbed the king's jaw and yanked it mercilessly to one side. Obi-Wan stepped forwards, thrusting out an arm, but it was too late. Even through the din of the blaster fire, the Jedi could hear the loud crack. The king's body went limp and his two children let out stifled screams. The woman threw the body into the air. It sailed down towards them, landing with a deafening thwack on the floor. His heal lolled at and awkward angle and his black eyes rolled back into his skull. The golden crown clattered to the ground beside him. 

Anakin gritted his teeth and stared up at this new assassin. A heavy weight pressed down on his gut. The two children stared with wide eyes at their father's body. "That kids, is what happens when you betray the Separatist Alliance," the woman spoke with a mechanical, staticky voice. Putting a hand on her hip, she jutted it to the side. The gleam of two lightsabers hanging from her hips caught his eyes.

"Is this a new apprentice?" Anakin hissed at Dooku.

The Sith's lips were tugged down into his ever-permanent scowl. "I would never waste my time teaching someone so crude," he mumbled, his own scarlet blade was still angled towards the two Jedi but two dark eyes peered up at the assassin. Anakin could sense the numbers of clones in the room dwindling fast. Gritting his teeth, he glanced around. His men were being completely overwhelmed. Too many lay dead on the floor. Another crowd of clunky battle droids came pouring into the room.

The assassin lifted a hand and one of the children was tugged from their seat and into the air by their throat. It let out a squeal, clawing desperately at its phantom attacker. Anakin lurched towards them, but Dooku's scarlet blade cut through his path and forced him to jump back, out of its way. Heavy, droid blaster fire began to rain down on the Jedi, rooting them to the spot. The other child stood to its feet and let out a few high-pitched squeaks. The chocking child was dropped to the floor, it's sibling falling to its knees by his side. "We have their allegiance Dooku," the assassin called down to the Sith, who was taking opportunistic strikes at the Jedi.

"Good," The Sith purred. The two Jedi were force back to back as they batted away blaster bolts.

"Anakin, we must retreat!" Obi-Wan shouted over the noise.

"We can't leave them!" Anakin responded, jutting a head towards the children. It was becoming increasingly difficult to spot the white trooper armour amongst the masses of metallic machinery.

"We must," Obi-Wan argued. "Dooku will keep them alive for now. They are too valuable to kill."

"That's not reassuring," Anakin snapped back. Never the less, he raised his wrist to his mouth and barked a retreat down his communicator. Together, the two Jedi began carving a path through the droid ranks towards the arching doorway. What was left of the troopers were hot on their heels, firing back into the army of droid. Dooku didn't give chase. Instead, he watched them flee with an arrogant grin. It made Anakin's blood boil. One day, he would chop that Sith's smug head clean from his shoulders.

When they broke into the corridor, he began sprinting down its length and batted away the oncoming enemy bolts. Ahead of him, the droid forces were much thinner. At the end of this corridor was another blast door. If they could make it beyond and seal it, it should give them enough time to flee. A startled scream tugged at his attention. Peering over his shoulder, he saw the assassin racing behind them and slaughtering what was left of the troopers in a swirl of red blades. Anger swelled in his chest. Turning to the trooper closest to him, he yelled a command over the noise. "Tell Rex to start sealing the door!" 

The trooper nodded. Anakin and Obi-Wan met each other's eyes. Slowing their pace down, they fell to the back of their retreating forces. The assassin reached a hand out towards a pair of troopers and clenched her hand into a tight fist. Their helmets crumpled inwards. A short pained cry was silenced with a crunch as they clattered to the floor. Willing himself not to look back at their bodies, he leapt at the assassin and swung his blade aggressively. She flicked one of her double-sided blades into and arc and knocked away his attack. In the near distance, he could see the heavy, blast door beginning to drop towards the ground. Obi-Wan joined in the fight. They kept running and swiping at each other's defences, quickly falling into a jolting pattern.

They drew so close to the door that they were practically beneath it. The door itself was so low that he would have to roll beneath it to get under. Swinging himself around, he stepped into the assassin's path and thrust out a hand. The assassin was sent flying back into the air. Not wasting a moment, he flung himself under the closing door. The grand foya before him was filled with a lot more clones than droids. Together, the last of their troops fled from the palace.


	3. Foe

Malice stood in front of Palpatine's desk in one of those ridiculously impractical dresses Padmé was always wearing. The daylight poured into his large office windows. Heavy streams of traffic flowed over the bustling city skyline. The overwhelming amount of crimson in the room amused her. Of course Sidious would find any way he could to rub his identity in the faces of the Jedi without them ever realising he was doing it. The curving couches and tall, arching statues were all part of the grandeur. The supreme chancellor himself was seated behind the desk, his arms clasped in front of her. "Well done on your success, my dear," he praised her, but the words were as hollow as him. "The count told me you were very cooperative." A smug smile curled his lips. Malice narrowed her eyes. It wasn't as though she had any choice. One word from his apprentice and Sidious would have yanked Padmé back to consciousness from halfway across the galaxy. The dark hooks he had planted in her mind were a painful reminder of that. "You will go to Mrs Amidala's apartment and I will return her control to your body," he stated.

Malice leaned forwards slightly, clenching her hands by her sides. Sidious was using the senator to control her, but it was evident he needed something else from Padmé. Why else would he spend so much time making sure nobody knew who Malice was? It was him who had told her to use the voice scrambling mask. He was manipulating them both, no doubt. "What is it you need the senator for?" Malice asked, her voice still rumbling in her throat.

Sidious flashed her angry eyes. "That is not something you need to know," he snapped, picking up a pile of data pads and beginning to organise them into neat bundles. "I will call on you when your services are required again." Malice took in a deep breath in a desperate attempt to soothe the fuming rage that rose within her. 

Twitching to move, she halted. Her mind flicked back to the two Jedi she had seen fighting Dooku in the throne room. In person, their light presences had been completely infatuating. For the first time ever, she had felt guilt when Skywalker had sent her such a vicious glower after she had killed the king. It hadn't lasted long, but it had been enough to startle her. If she asked Sidious what Padmé's relation to the Jedi Knight was, she might be granted some clarity on why they seemed to have a connection so deep it even affected Malice. "Is something the matter?" Sidious growled, peering up at her.

"Nothing," Malice responded sharply, turning on her heels and striding back through the office. She didn't want to give the Sith Lord any more means to manipulate her and Padmé if he didn't already know.

*

One of the worst parts of failing a mission to Obi-Wan, was reporting it back the the Jedi council because then it became official. Then, he had to face just how many people would be injured by his failure. This time was no different. The Jedi masters' holograms stood around a large, circular holo projector on the floor. There were several Jedi maters present, Mace Windu and Yoda stood directly opposite Anakin and Obi-Wan, the only two Jedi physically there. The meeting room was lit solely by the projections' eerie, blue glow. "Most unfortunate, the loss of Trongo is," Yoda told them softly, craning his head up to see them. 

"We cannot leave the king's heirs to suffer under Dooku's reign," Anakin bit out, an angry sternness creeping into his voice. Their terrified eyes as they watched their father’s body get thrown across the room like garbage was seared into Obi-Wan's mind, but after some meditation he would be able to clear himself of that emotion. His former apprentice, on the other hand, was a different story. It wasn't fair those children and their people had been left behind to suffer, but the Republic forces had no choice but to retreat.

"Planning a liberation mission, we already are," Yoda hummed, scratching at his chin. "Wait until Separatist security thins out, we should, or when freeing them, we will fail." Anakin clenched his hands into tight fists. "Be patient, you must," Yoda's warm gaze rested upon him. Obi-wan could sense that Anakin felt the urge to argue, but a sharp look from his former master made him bite his tongue. If Anakin protested too much, the council would be reluctant to put him on the team that would eventually liberate Trongo. It wouldn't do if he was too emotionally invested. The younger Jedi seemed to understand this at least, and held his silence.

"What of this new assassin?" Windu asked, running a thumb under his chin.

"We are still are not sure how she slipped past our defences in the vents, but we do think Dooku's appearance in person was supposed to distract us whilst she murdered the king," Obi-Wan hummed lifting a hand and stroking at his beard. A fierce scowl was carved into Anakin's features. 

"Dooku told us she was not his apprentice, but the dark side was strong with her," Anakin informed them, his top lip curling upwards. "She also fought fairly proficiently with lightsabers."

A strange silence settled over the council. Mace and Yoda traded a glance. "You are dismissed Skywalker, this is a matter the council must discuss," Mace told the Jedi sternly.

Anakin recoiled slightly. Obi-Wan could sense anger swirling in his former apprentice's mind. "I'm one of the only people who has seen her!" he objected, his eyes narrowing to venomous slits.

Obi-Wan reached out and placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder. The younger Jedi's eyes met his with a seething glare. "I will relay our orders to you later," he said sternly. Anakin jutted his jaw to one side. Shaking his head, he stormed out of the room. A dark cloud of rage followed closely behind him. The moment the meeting chamber was sealed once more, Obi-Wan let out a deep sigh and returned his gaze back to the council. There was much the appearance of this new Sith could mean, plenty of which was only knowledge amongst the council members. The existence of Dooku's master was one such secret and the fact that the clone army was created by that master another. It was best Anakin didn't know about these things. Sometimes Obi-Wan wished he didn't.

"This new Sith, is it possible she could be Dooku's master?" Ki-Adi-Mundi offered gently. 

"As Anakin said the darkside is strong with her, and she used it brutally, but from the way Dooku spoke about her it seems they were nothing more than allies." Obi-Wan stroked his beard again, his mind reliving the short interaction that they had with the Sith. 

"Know, you would have, if it was Darth Sidious you really met," Yoda responded, clasping his small hands together. "Fear, I do, another enemy to factor into the war, this is." That was not good. The Jedi were struggling to cope with the Sith they were already fighting. Adding another, potentially powerful, fighter to the separatist ranks could be very bad news for the republic.

"That breaks the rule of two," Plo Koon commented, folding his hands into his long sleeves.

"The Sith have broken that rule before with Ventress," Windu replied, a scowl sharpened his features.

"For now, watch out for this foe, we must," Yoda told them, the corners of his lips tugged downwards. "Use up resources searching for answers, we cannot."


	4. Confusion

Padmé felt herself slowly coming back to her senses. She was acutely aware she was lying on something soft and plush. Light bathed her vision in a golden hue. All her thoughts came to her in short, jumbled spurts. The refreshing fragrance of fresh laundry bathed her senses. The distant noise of traffic was so feint she couldn't really tell if it was there. The feeling began to return to her fingers, allowing her to twitch and flex them. Her vision sharpened. She was on her back staring up at a cream ceiling. Slitted streams of light were pouring into the room. Life flooded back into her body. Pushing herself to sit up, the haze around her mind gradually dispersed. It took her a few moments of staring around blankly to understand where she was. It was her bedroom. The grey sheets and rounded carpets were so familiar yet startlingly new. For some reason, she was lying atop the duvet, still fully clothed. 

Padmé's heart skipped a beat and she swung her legs over the side of the bed. The blinds were wide open, showing a sliver of Coruscant's city skyline. Waking up so disoriented, everything old seeming so fresh and the strange discord she had from her body, she had felt it all before. Staggering to her feet, she all but ran out of the bedroom and into the living room. Blue couches were angled in towards an oval glass table. The grey carpet was in pristine condition. Large glass windows allowed bright daylight light to illuminate the whole room. "Threepio?" she called.

There was a beat of silence until the sound of mechanical limbs whirring became audible. The golden droid came scurrying into the room through a dark doorway on the far wall. "Ah, mistress Padmé. I wasn't aware you had returned," he commented, throwing up his arms and waddling over to her. Padmé's blood ran cold.

"Returned?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. Numbness began to tingle within her. She had no recollection of leaving at all. 

"Yes, from the diplomatic mission you were sent on," Threepio tutted, stopping before her. Padmé reached out, gripping his shoulders. The metal was cold beneath her fingertips.

"How many rotations ago was it, when I had to give a speech at the senate auditorium for the galactic peace conference?" she asked him sternly, maintaining relentless eye contact. 

"Three rotations ago. The same day you left for your mission," Threepio answered quickly. Padmé sucked in a deep breath, taking an unsteady step backwards. The droid tilted towards her and she could hear the gears churning in his head. The world spun aggressively beneath her feet. Gripping the back of a couch, she rigidly manoeuvred herself around and clumsily lowered herself onto the edge of its cushion. Planting her elbows on her knees, she dropped her head into her hands. A few stray locks of hair fell around her shoulders. "Mistress Padmé, are you alright?" Threepio asked.

"Quite alright," she told him, her voice wavered. The droid then wandered away, presumably to resume whatever task she had drawn him from. 

Padmé had no recollection of leaving Coruscant. She didn't even have any memory of planning to leave. All her muscles felt leaden with the news. When she was younger, Padmé had frequently lost days of memories. In her early years she had often woken up with injuries and pain after these slots of missing time. The worst damage she ever woke with was a few broken limbs. It had never been anything life threatening. Still, tension coiled around her chest.

When the blackouts first started at six, she had no time to be concerned about it even although they occurred almost every evening. All of her time was dedicated to her bedridden mother. The only family she had. They were poor, and Padmé had to help her mother where she could. When her mother died, it had left her so purposeless that she stopped caring about the blackouts completely. When she underwent training to be a political leader of Naboo, the blackouts only occurred on holidays, weekends or evenings and she had grown so used to them she almost forgot they weren't normal. Throughout her time as queen the blackouts were still prevalent but hadn't clashed with her duties. When her term ended and she became a senator, the missing pieces of memory became steadily less frequent until they stopped all together. The last one she had was from before the clone wars began. Just before the assassination attempt that had brought Anakin back into her life.

These memory lapses had never interfered with her daily life. They had never stopped her from attending something as important as the galactic peace conference. They had never caused her so much distress. In her chest, her heart was racing. Clenching her hands together, she drew in a steady breath. It was a one off. It had to be. Padmé was willing to let it slide. Only if it happened again, would she really begin to freak out.

*

Much later that evening, Padmé was seated on the same couch. A mug of tea was clutched in her hands. The heat from the cup seeped into her skin. Closing her eyes over, she allowed the warm steam to gently blanche her features. All she could hear was the distant rumblings of traffic. With one leg tucked beneath her, she was reclined back into the plush pillows. A fine line was etched between her brows. After spending most of the day trying to catch up on what she'd missed over the past few days, her mind was dull and slow. It shocked her, how much could happen in such a short space of time. The king of Trongo dead? Trongo was under the protection of the Jedi during its transition phase from the separatists to the republic. Anakin was on the team that was protecting the royal family. The king's successful murder was a surprise to say the least.

Every muscle in her body ached with weariness. If she got distracted for too long, she found herself nodding off. It was always like this after she blacked out. It felt like she's been hit by a speeder after running a marathon. Part of her wondered what it was she got up to when she lost time, but she quickly brushed that thought aside. She most likely just continued with her daily life and later forgot about it. 

Suddenly, there was a click and light filled the room, seeping through her closed eyelids. A surprised squeal escaped her lips and her eyes shot open. Scalding hot tea splashed out of the mug and across her lap, making her hiss in pain. Practically throwing the mug onto the glass table she fanned her legs by flapping her hands frantically, cooling the hot liquid. The sight of a tall figure clad in black in the corner of the room made her head snap up towards him. Freezing, her mouth hung ajar. It was Anakin, he stood in the entryway to her apartment, a guilty smile on his lips. "Sorry," he mumbled, gesturing to the tea. "Why were you sitting in the dark?" he cocked a brow.

Padmé sprung to her feet, ran over to him and threw herself into his open arms. He hugged her tightly into his chest, his black robes completely enveloped her. That rich, spicy scent of his she had come to adore washed over her. The tension in her shoulders eased out completely. Pulling away from her momentarily, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Padmé's heart tripped over itself. Warmth burst to life in her chest. Reluctantly pushing away from him, she caught his eyes with her own. Her hands still lingered on his sides. Despite the constant shifting of his breath, she could feel the warmth of his skin through his thick clothes. "I didn't know you were back today," she told him breathily.

Anakin's brows pinched together. "I sent you a transmission about it yesterday," he mumbled. Lifting a hand, he traced the curve of her brow bone with his thumb. A little smile curved his lips. "I suppose that explains why you didn't answer," he chuckled. Padmé had a mountain of transmissions awaiting her after her three days of unplanned leave to go on a relief mission she remembered nothing about, so it was very possible she hadn't quite reached his just yet.

"I'm sorry, I was sent on a relief mission and I had a lot to catch up on at the senate," she told him honestly. There was no point in mentioning the blackout, she was sure it wouldn't happen again for a long time. Anakin nodded gently, a weary sigh escaping his lips. Padmé studied his face closely. A strange forlorn pain lingered in his eyes and his jaw was completely set. "What's wrong?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and pulling him a little closer.

"Nothing," he responded quietly, his eyes dropping away from hers. Padmé shifted her head to an awkward angle, just to catch his gaze, and cocked a stern eyebrow upwards. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he let out a rumbling sigh and the corners of his lips turned downwards. "It's the Jedi council," he grumbled, lines forming on his brow. "They are keeping secrets from me." he pulled out of her embrace and stalked towards the windows. Due to the glare from the lights, only glimpses of the flashing city lights could be seen. Padmé wrapped her arms around her body, watching him from afar. "A new Sith has appeared and I'm one of the only jedi who have seen her," his voice gained a dangerous edge as he began pacing the length of the room. "They dismissed me halfway through a report on her so they could discuss her significance in private," the volume increased. Turning to face her, he threw his arms into the air. "How am I supposed to trust them when it is so clear they are hiding something!"

Padmé crept towards him, tightening her arms around herself. Ever since Ashoka had left the order, he had been coming to blows with the council more and more frequently. Pressing her lips together, she regarded him softly. "This Sith was awful," his top lip curled upwards. "She murdered the king in front of his own children and then manipulated them into siding with the Separatists by nearly killing them!" She edged a little closer. It sounded no different from something any other of the Separatist leaders would do. Anakin often had a lot of pressure on him to always succeed. He was 'the hero' after all. It meant he had to face a lot of disappointment every time he failed. Most of it came from himself.

"Anakin, I have no doubt you did everything you could to protect them," she told him tenderly. His shoulders dropped a little and he glared at the floor. "You can't save everyone."

The Jedi gritted his teeth. "They are still trapped on Trongo, under constant Separatist watch," his voice fell to a whisper, but it was still lined with anger. Pained eyes lifted to meet hers. "The council won't help them until the security on the planet dampens down." 

Padmé reached out and grasped his arms. "When the time comes for them to be rescued, I know you will be on the front lines and you will free them," her voice held a note of sternness. "You must have faith they will be able to hold strong until then."

Exhaling deeply, he nodded slowly. "I know," he mumbled. Lifting his arms, he pulled her back into a tight embrace. "I won't fail them again."


	5. Handprint

Padmé's screams filled the night air. Anakin could see her face so clearly as he pressed a large rock down on top of her abdomen. A slick sheen of blood coated her chin and fresh droplets seeped out the corners of her lips. The same scarlet liquid was plastered onto his black gauntlet in the distinct shape of a hand. Her face was twisted with agony. Every breath she took was accompanied by a wet hissing noise. Hot panic was rising within him and his heart was pounding in his chest. Despite their intensity, his anger eclipsed all the other emotions burning within him. It overwhelmed him like never before. He could practically feel it steaming out of his pores. Padmé struggled in vein beneath him, pushing against the rock and leaving behind inky trails of scarlet liquid. Anakin only pressed down harder, drawing out another weak, pained cry from her. The resistance made his anger grow larger, something he hadn't thought possible. "Anakin!" she shouted as loud as her strained and wheeze voice would allow. "I-I can't breathe," She spluttered, streams of blood trailed down her chin. "Stop, please." He didn't shift. "Anakin!"

Anakin burst awake. His heart was thundering in his ears and he drew in unsteady breaths. Padmé's face was crinkled with worry as she peered over him. For one horrible second, he couldn't tell if he was dreaming or not. Throwing himself to his feet, he staggered away from her. "Anakin?" Padmé called his name timidly. He focused on her face. There were no traces of blood. The only expression on she wore was the crease between her brows and the corners of her lips that were tugged down. Silence rang in his ears. The room was nearly pitch black. Only the city lights that seeped through the blinds illuminated the curves and edges of her body as she sat atop their bed staring at him with worried eyes. A tremble rattled his frame. "Are you okay?" she whispered, shifting closer and swinging her legs off the edge of the bed.

"Fine," he responded with a shaky voice, blinking hard. Hot sweat clung to his skin from head to toe.

"Anakin," she responded with a sigh, pushing herself to her feet. 

"It was just a bad dream," he mumbled, staying rooted to the spot. Padmé crept closer, cautiously grasping his shaking shoulders. Her hands were warm on his bare skin. Those dark eyes of hers flicked between his. Wrinkled formed around her forehead.

"What happened?" she whispered, leaning in close. Anakin felt himself go ridged. 

"It was just one about the war," he answered curtly. He grasped her wrists into his hands delicately. "You should go back to bed," he managed to keep his voice low and steady, despite the way his heart was still pounding. "I just... I need a moment," he backed away from her towards the door. As he slipped out of the room, the last he saw was her watching him leave with her hands clasped over her heart. It guilted him to lie, but he couldn't bring himself to even repeat what he had really seen. 

Before he really knew it, he was standing on their balcony. It was small and arched. Tall, marble banisters fenced him in. The Coruscant skyline twinkled like stars in the darkness of the night. Despite the late hour, he could still pick out the distinct sound of heavy traffic queues. A cooling breeze blew back his hair from his flushed features. Blowing out a huff of air, he planted his hands onto the fencing before him and leaned his weight on his arms. The marble was cold beneath his hands and feet. Hanging his head down, he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Padmé's face, morphed in pain and covered in blood, kept springing to his mind. Those screams of agony rang in his ears. Just the memory made his blood curdle. Anakin straightened out and stared down at his quivering palms. The robotic hand was skeletal and bare, all its machine parts visibly whirred within. It was those hands that held her down whilst she suffered. It was those hands that kept her trapped beneath that rock. Fresh sweat beaded his forehead. Hot panic stirred in his stomach. With his human hand, he grasped the robotic one in the same place the bloody handprint had covered his gauntlet. The thought of the desperate pleas she made to him squeezed his already aching heart.

Hissing through his teeth, he began pacing the length of the balcony and threw his hands up into his hair. Anakin knew a force vision when he saw one. Those dreams were always much sharper. Although they tended to focus solely on one being, their details were often a lot finer. The same way it had been when he dreamed of his mother's death. The only issue was, Anakin would never hurt Padmé like that. He didn't think he could even if he wanted to, which he most definitely did not. The shakes were slowly beginning to subside, leaving him cold and numb.

Returning to the warmth of the apartment, her ran a hand down his face. Trudging through a few corridors, he returned to the dim light of the bedroom. Padmé was lying on her side, turned away from him. He could feel she was still awake. Her presence was rippling with concern and uncertainty. Picking up her head, she watched him as he padded over and slid into the bed beside her. Anakin lay flat on his back and stared blankly at the ceiling above him. "Are you alright?" Padmé whispered, turning over to face him.

Anakin tilted his head towards her. Those dark eyes bore into his own. Guilt bubbled in his heart. "I'm fine," he uttered softly, clasping his hands over his stomach. "It was just... the dream took me off guard," he told her truthfully, letting out a long huff of breath. Padmé reached out and began tracing delicate circles on the curve of his shoulder with her finger. Although the motion was soothing, it made him stiffen. It felt wrong. After he'd seen himself hurt her so badly, she shouldn't be treating him with such tenderness.

"As long as you are okay now," she responded, her eyes blinking shut and her palm laying flat on his arm.

"You don't need to worry," he told her. Although it felt a lot more like he was reassuring himself, she didn't need to be concerned. There was no way he would ever allow himself to hurt her like that. 

*

Chancellor Palpatine had always been a dear to Padmé's heart. It was him that had found her in the last few months of her mother's life and him that made those months so much easier. Because of him, her mother lived her last few days a lot more comfort than their rat infested apartment. Even when shd finally passed, it was Palpatine that got Padmé enlisted in the legislative youth programme that led to her rule as queen. After he election, he had been her most trusted advisor and mentor. So, it deeply confused her as she sat in his office and felt nothing but unbridled hatred. 

The Chancellor was simply sitting behind his desk commenting on the bill she had brought before him for review, but his voice sounded like the screech of a land-speeder’s broken brakes. It chilled her to the bone. Sitting up straight in one of the chairs before him, she kept a smile plastered to her face. The unreasonable anger she felt was completely drowning out her confusion at the volatile emotion. Not even the beautiful beams of morning sunlight that streamed in through the windows could brighten her mood. "Brilliant work, as always," the Chancellor purred, placing the data pad down on the desk in front of him. Padmé had to strain not to grimace whilst listening to him speak. "I don't know how well the rest of the senate will receive it because of its controversial nature," he hummed, clasping his hands together and leaning down onto his forearms.

Padmé shifted in her seat. "There is still a chance they might agree to stop the clone production," she argued, crossing her legs over and placing her hands on her knee. Palpatine let out a low hum and carefully regarded her with a gentle gaze.

"It is doubtful, my dear," he tutted, her fury spiked sharply but she dug her nails into her knee and kept that strained smile on her face. "You persistence will pay off someday," he assured her with empty words. Heat burned her face and the corners of her eyes twitched. 

The Chancellor let out a weary sigh, lifted his hand and waved it in front of her. Padmé had no time to be confused. Although she could still feel everything, it quickly began to feel like she was a stranger in her own body. An outsider looking in. Her conscious mind caved around her, pushing a dark evil into control. Malice blinked hard as sensation slowly returned to her. She could sense Padmé's light slipping back into the recesses of her mind. Staring around herself, she quickly absorbed the information. Shifting uncomfortably in the tight dress she was wearing, she scowled at Sidious. "How long has it been since my last time in control?" she hissed, curling a lip.

"Only a few weeks," Sidious responded with a cold voice. "And just as promised, I have another assignment for you."


	6. Bug Traps

Anakin was weary with exhaustion. Propping himself up against the wall of the small ship, he watched as the access ramp slowly descended to the floor. Beside him, Obi-Wan stood tall with his hands folded into his long sleeves. The familiar, noisy buzz of a hangar was filtering in from below. "Are you sure you're alright?" Obi-Wan whispered over to him with concern wrinkling his eyes. 

"Fine," Anakin grumbled, pushing himself to his feet and sluggishly dusting off his robes. Obi-Wan hummed in discontent, but said nothing further. The truth was, Anakin hadn't slept in weeks. Padmé's screams haunted every moment of silence he had to himself. In the few fleeting slivers of sleep he got, the dream replayed constantly in his head. It was always the same. The bloody handprint. The rock. The wheezing. The begging. All of it exactly the same. Since the first night he had it, he hadn't been back on Coruscant. It was both a blessing and a curse. It relieved him he couldn't be around Padmé to hurt her in such a way, but it stressed him that he wasn't around her to make sure she wasn't suffering and in pain. A deep ache within him burned hotter than ever before to be with her, but a cold wind just as strong told him to stay away.

"Master Jedi!" A accented voice called, tugging him from his musings. At the base of the ramp, a pirate with a long red cloak waved up at him. A feathered, monkey like creature with a large beak was perched on his shoulder. "How nice to see you."

Obi-Wan descended the ramp towards him, dipping his head in acknowledgement. "I wish I could say the same to you Hondo," he quipped. Anakin followed behind the Jedi master. A headache pounded in his skull. The hangar they entered was huge. Hundreds of pirates were milling around strictly ordered rows of Separatist crafts, grinning and whooping with glee every time they found something of any value. Eerie green lights shone down from above. 

Casting his eyes around, his nose wrinkled in disgust. This Separatist starship hangar looked just like the hundreds he had been in before, although it was in relatively better condition than he was used to. "Where is the crew you captured?" Anakin asked the pirate, narrowing his eyes.

"We managed to push them into the cargo hold and lock it down," Hondo explained, scratching at his chin. "I'll take you to them now," he offered, turning in a flurry of enthusiasm and false amicability. The Jedi traded a dubious look. They were here to arrest Admiral Trench, who had been in charge of the ship, but he wasn't known for his fighting prowess. It was more likely that the hold was filled with several dangerous battle droids. Anakin was beginning to regret his decision to come without any troopers. 

They followed the pirate out of the hold and through the many ridged, long corridors of the ship. It was infested with pirates. Every corner they turned had one of Hondo's crew members getting up to all kids of acts that Anakin knew they shouldn't turn a blind eye to, but no war was ever won without hypocrisy and moral sacrifice. The walk to the cargo hold wasn't a long one, but it seemed to drag on forever. "I'm curious," Obi-Wan hummed, "How is it that you managed to hijack a Separatist cruiser?"

"Well, you know..." Hondo glanced back at the Jedi, shrugging his shoulders. "A little trickery here, a few false promises there and next thing you know you are talking to one Admiral Trench and about to engage in a weapons trade when you have no weapons."

"Happens all the time," Obi-Wan hummed, twirling the edge of his moustache.

"So what else is there to do but take over the ship with the crew that had already infiltrated the bridge!" He sent them an innocent smile, his wrinkled skin wrinkling even more.

"Naturally," Obi-Wan purred, a glimmer of amusement twinkled in his eyes. Anakin blinked the haze in his vision out of his eyes. A wooziness lingered over his brain. The words of those surrounding him went straight over his head. A cold numbness tingled in his arms and feet. Every thudding step he took, his whole body jostled with impact.

Eventually they found themselves entering the dingy, dark cargo hold. Huge towers of crates rose as tall as the arching ceiling. Only a few meagre lights shone from the walls, leaving the nest of cargo completely pitch black. Anakin pressed his lips into a thin line. He could only sense a few living things within the room and they were obscured from his sights. That would be expected, from a droid army. When he spotted Hondo lingering by the door, he cocked a brow, "Are you not joining us?" Anakin asked with a thin smile. 

Hondo grimaced at the very notion. "I know better than to get caught in a fire fight between the Jedi and the droids," he brushed them off. "And anyway, that admiral scares me." Anakin held in a smile. Trench wasn't the easiest to look at, that was for sure.

They plunged into the maze of crates and crept through the darkness. Their hands lingered over their weapons. The force whispered danger in his ear, but his groggy mind couldn't decipher its warning. A strange, pale fog covered the floor. After a few moments, they found the centre of the room. The sight before him made annoyance rise within his chest. The admiral was there alright. A half mechanical, spider-like face with numerous eyes peered up at them from the floor. All eight of his legs were bound in chains. Around him were hundreds of deactivated battle droids. A few Separatist politicians were bound to the floor with glowing blue restraints in the large square opening that was fenced in by the towering crates. 

Anakin caught Obi-Wan's wide eyes. Together, they turned heel and ran back through the crate maze. The white mist at their feet was growing thicker and quickly rising. "Hondo!" Obi-Wan shouted as they tore through the rows towards the exit. Anakin was feeling light-headed, his limbs were slowing down and getting harder to move. The world was growing dark and blurry around him. By the time they reached the exit, all of their movements were slow and languorous. They waisted no time pounding on the door and demanding to be released. Instead, they ignited their blades and plunged them into the walls. With a huff and a groan, they began cutting a prefect circle. Anakin's already tired muscles strained with effort. "Hurry up Anakin!" Obi-Wan hissed, having made a lot more progress than his former padawan. The wall glowed molten orange around his sapphire weapon. All the vibrant colours began merging together and before he knew what hit him, unconsciousness took hold.

*

Malice was furious. At herself. At Sidious. At the bloody pirates. She should have known better to go into that cargo hold alone. Of course it was a trap. The thick, creamy gas they had pumped into the room was fast acting, knocking her out before she could react, but it also wore off quicker than most sedatives. She didn’t get over it quick enough however, to stop the opportunistic scum that trapped her from chaining her up in force-suppressing binders. 

As she trudged through the long halls of the stolen Separatist ship, she really found herself questioning if the short snippets of freedom she got whilst doing Sidious's bidding was really worth it. This was supposed to be an easy mission. All she had to do was pay the pirates price and liberate the crew. Grievous and another Separatist cruiser were waging a war on the opposite end of the planet they were orbiting, so of course errand duty had fallen to her. The pirates’ slippery nature must have been known by Sidious. That slimy toad had known exactly what was going to happen and that's why he didn't just send a few droids. Her blood boiled, despite still fighting off the effects of the sleep enducing gas.

A small group of pirates herded her along. Three of them had their gun muzzles pointed at her back. Her hands were cuffed behind her and her lightsabers swung from the hip of the man who was leading her through the halls. Her mask reassuringly pressed against her face and her thick hood was pulled down over her face. Hondo, the first pirate she met aboard the ship, had vanished. No doubt he was on his way to bump up the bounty he wanted since he had her in his captivity as well. A killer headache throbbed in the back of her skull. The moment she got free, she was going to put his head on a pike.

The man leading her, Risco, slipped into the detention block. Heavy cell doors lined the walls. It only occasionally held a prisoner, shown by a tiny slit in the door. Intense lights blared down from above. Thick tubing and piping ran along the length of the ceiling. The pirate stopped in front of one door, and pressed down on the access. Before she had even looked inside, they roughly shoved her in and followed her through with blasters still aimed at her back.

Malice's heart dropped and she staggered to a halt. The room before her was small. On the cell wall furthest from her, two Jedi stood with their wrists cuffed on either side of their heads. The glowing blue chains that bound them down told her they had no more connection to the force than she did. Malice had run into a few Jedi in her time. Some she killed, the others she forgot. The two in front of her however, were seared into her mind's eyes because of Padmé's ridiculous emotions. If she recalled correctly, their names were Skywalker and Kenobi. Their heads snapped towards her as she was dragged into the room. The long haired Jedi in dark clothing narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits. "You," he hissed, wrinkles of disgust formed on his nose.

"Me?" Malice replied back innocently. Risco manoeuvred her cautiously to the centre of the room.

"You're the assassin from Trongo," Skywalker leered. Assassin? Malice was much more than a petty assassin. Anger bubbled within her. Malice had not spent years undergoing Sith teachings to be called an assassin by some naive jedi that was in just as much a predicament as she. Still, she stayed her temper. She would have to wait patiently for the right moment to escape the confines of her cell and an angry outburst would only tighten the pirates' security.

"I'm flattered you remember me," she retorted dryly. Risco told her to get onto her knees, facing away from the the Jedi. Reluctantly, she obliged. One of the pirates kept a blaster trained on her head whilst two others pulled her arms taut behind her back and secured them to the floor. 

"This day just keeps getting better and better," Kenobi commented with false cheer. Even though they couldn't see her, she rolled her eyes. One by one, the pirates filed out of the room until the only one left was Risco. He crouched down in front of her, narrowing his eyes at her mask.

"Your capture is nothing personal little lady, we can just demand a much larger bounty with the three of you plus that Separatist Admiral. The boss wants a nice holo pic of all your smiling faces together so he can prove it though," Risco explained, reaching a wrinkly hand out towards her mask. "Would be rude not to have your face in it, eh?" He chortled. Malice’s heart began pounding in her chest. All because of Padmé, the thought of those worthless Jedi finding out her real identity made a cold shiver run down her spine. Immediately, she lurched backwards, out of his grasps. The pirate grumbled in annoyance, stretching towards her again. Catching a glimpse of a her metal lightsaber on his belt, she gritted her teeth. Just as his fingers brushed the rim of her mask, she rocked forwards and smashed her head against his. At the same time, she used the crook of her elbow to tug her lightsaber off his clothing. The man's angry shout drowned out the noise of the hilt hitting the ground. With another pained cry, he clasped his hands over his nose. That partially obscured his vision and allowed Malice to use her knee to roll the hilt beneath her. She knelt over the top of the weapon, sitting on her calves and protecting it from view like a mother bird would its egg.

The pirate recovered quickly, cussing heavily and sending her a seething glare. Malice saw his clenched fist approaching her fast, but didn't attempt to dodge it. He connected hard with the side of her face, snapping her head to one side and drawing a grunt from her lips. Pain flared to life across her jaw. A sharp ringing erupted in her ears and for a moments dancing lights flashed across her vision. Whilst she was still in a daze, he yanked the mask clean off her face. Blinking hard, her heart began to hammer in her chest. From the corner of her vision, she could make out the black rim of her hood. As they could only see the back of her head, which was concealed anyway, Malice hoped the Jedi couldn't figure out who she really was. 

Malice's mask clattered to the ground in front of her. Lifting her head, she glared up at the pirate standing over her. His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were so wide she thought they might fall straight out of his empty skull. "I don't believe it," he whispered, taking a step back. A loopy grin curled his lips. "Y-you're one of those famous senators!" he shouted in glee. 

"What!" Skywalker yelled from behind her. Malice kept her head low and eyes forward. Of course Padmé was famous. Why would Malice expect anything less with her luck? Her heart was beating so fast in her chest, it rocked her whole body.

"Yeah, Senator... Ma... naaa..." the pirate's eyes drifted off to the side as he tried in vein to recall her name. A sliver of relief weaselled its way into her heart. "It doesn't matter, the Republic is going to want your head for a lot of credits," he shrugged, delight glinting in his eyes. Practically skipping out of the cell, he sang to himself, "the boss is going to be so happy." The door whooshed shut behind him.

"You're a traitor to the republic as well as an assassin," Kenobi's voice washed over her from behind. "Why amn't I surprised." Malice held her tongue for fear they might recognise her voice without her masks scrambler. Slowly, she backed up a little and rose to a crouch, revealing the hilt hidden beneath her. "How devious. I can see why you are a good politician," Kenobi commented. Ignoring him, she used her feet to angle the lightsaber towards the chains cuffing her to the ground.

"Guards, you might want to get in here!" Skywalker yelled. Malice used the heel of her foot to ignite one of the crimson blades, cutting herself loose. The door slid open and two pirates came charging in. Malice scooped up her mask and jumped to her feet. Placing the mask on her face, she ignited the other end of her blade and batted away the barrage of blaster bolts that flew in her direction. The lightsabers hum buzzed through the air.

Spinning her blade like a windmill, she reached a hand out and pulled the pirates towards with the force. They went flying into her mobile blade. Smoking chunks of flesh rained across the room, splattering all over the floor and walls. Their blasters clattered to the floor. Steadying her lightsaber, she turned back towards the two Jedi. Both of them were glaring at her intensely. The heat from their rage forced her to withhold a shudder. She stalked closer to them, her weapon still purring in her hand. They went stiff as she raised her lightsaber between them. Each had a crimson blade hissing at their necks. Every last cell in her body wanted nothing more than to kill them, and she knew she should, yet she hesitated. Padmé's love for them coiled around her, stopping her from pushing the lightsaber just the few inches forwards it would take to end their miserable lives. 

"What are you waiting for!" Skywalker snapped. This close, she could see the deep black bags beneath his eyes. His hair was completely dishevelled and an ugly snarl curled his lips. It broke her heart. No, it broke Padmé’s heart.

"It's not as fun when you can't fight back," she sighed, dropping her weapon down and watching as the scarlet glow retreated back into its hilt. 

Turning her back on them, she clipped her lightsaber to her belt and strode towards the doorway. If she didn't find Risco soon, he might end up revealing who he had seen behind the mask. "You're leaving us alive?" Kenobi asked.

Peering over her shoulder, she saw he was staring at her with a cautiously quirked eyebrow. "Don't worry, one day I'm going to cut that snarky little tongue of yours out your mouth and shove it so far down your throat that your tongue will be whispering sweet nothings to your liver for weeks," she snapped. Kenobi drew his head back, a small smile curled the edges of his lips. "Luckily for you, I have a pirate to kill." With that, she took off out of the room and tore down the hallways. 

Malice reached out into the force. All the revolting, blackened presences of the pirates shone like lights in the dim quiet of the star cruiser. Pushing herself to her top speed, she realised he wasn't too far away. Any pirate she came across had his neck snapped or was cut down by a lightsaber. It didn't take her long to catch up. He was prancing down a long, narrow corridor. No other pirates were in sight. He didn't even notice she was coming until her blade was imbedded in his back. A strained wheeze escaped her lips. The pirate collapsed to the floor as she yanked out her lightsaber and clipped it to her belt. Stooping down, she scooped up her other hilt and rescued it from the pirates grasp.

From not too far away, she felt two light force presence flare up. Malice broke out into a cold sweat. That could only mean one thing. The Jedi had escaped. Gritting her teeth, she weighed her options. As much as she wanted to murder Hondo violently, she also wanted to be granted some time in control of her body. If she failed this mission, she would be locked away for sure. So, finding Trench and rescuing him was her top priority.


	7. Sand Flee

Anakin stared incredulously at the assassin's form as she slipped out the door, leaving both Jedi alive and unharmed but chained to the wall. Lifting his eyes, he tried not to stare at the chunks of pirate that were littered all over the room. The horrid stench of burning flesh was suffocating him. From the corner of his watering eyes, he caught sight of a blaster lying on the floor not too far from him. "That pirate must be wrong," Anakin hissed through his teeth as he reached a foot out towards the unattended blaster. "There is no way a Sith like that could conceal their presence on Coruscant without the Jedi noticing." The toe of his boot brushed the edge of the blaster, spinning the handle around towards him.

"Well clearly she must have," Obi-Wan argued. "Didn't you notice the way she didn't speak without her mask on?" He pointed out calmly. That was a thought that hadn't occurred to Anakin. He'd assumed she was just too busy escaping. The anger within him began to rise again. In the past he had encountered many traitors, but never one as extreme as this. To think a Sith had weaselled their way into the senate made his blood run cold. The assassin hadn’t even refuted the pirates claim that she was a senator.

"Was she just being cautious, or do you think she has spoken to us before?" Anakin grumbled, using his heel to drag the blaster towards himself.

"If she is a popular senator, then there is a high probability we have heard her speak in the senate," Obi-Wan answered with a thoughtful hum. Anakin clenched his teeth. Now he was going to second guess every senator he bumped into and there was nothing he could do about it. Wrapping his feet around the blaster, he curled in on himself and brought his knees up towards his head. The cold metal of the barrel brushed his finger tips, allowing him to grasp a hand around it and drop his legs back down to the floor. Using what limited mobility he had, he manoeuvred the blaster and curled his finger around the trigger. There was no way the long, slender nose of the blaster could be successfully aimed at his chains, so instead he cocked it towards Obi-Wan. "Watch where you are aiming that thing!" he grumbled, leaning away from Anakin.

"I am," Anakin’s voice sounded like a mischievous grin. The Jedi master had no time to protest before the trigger was pulled. A startled shout left Obi-Wan's lips and a flash of light burst into the air. As Anakin blinked away the light spots, he heard the other Jedi's chains clanking to the floor. Obi-Wan rubbed at his wrists. The cuffs that had entrapped him were hanging loosely from the wall. 

"You might have killed me." Obi-Wan scowled at Anakin and plucked the blaster from his hands. A smile curled the younger Jedi's lips. "My turn," he grunted, mercilessly firing the blaster at Anakin's cuffs. A wash of heat smashed into his face and a loud bang erupted by his ears. The force came flooding back to him, illuminating his senses. The cold metal around his wrists went slack, allowing him to yank them from the wall and free himself of his bindings. Taking a few steps forwards, he found himself blinking away light spots in his eyes once again and trying not to wince at the loud ringing in his ears. "We'd better find her before she escapes," Obi-Wan traversed the cluttered floor towards the cell door. Anakin was fast to follow in his footsteps. The prospect of finding that traitorous assassin, dragging her back to Coruscant and locking her in prison for life sent thrills of excitement running down his spine. 

The pair of Jedi fled from the cell and broke into a sprint down the corridor. Bright overhead lights flashed by. Their footsteps thundered through the corridors. Anakin could feel the assassin's dark presence amongst the pirates marbled light like a black pebble sitting amongst grey gravel. All he could focus on was finding her. The anger in his chest boiled away the remains of his fatigue. 

A large group of pirates zipped across the corridor in front of them, Hondo leading the charge. Anakin and Obi-Wan traded a glance and followed the pirate leader. Using the force to push them forwards, the slipped through the ranks of the pirates and fell into step beside Hondo. "Ah, Jedi!" The pirate raised his arms in a warm greeting. Anakin couldn't help but notice the two familiar lightsabers on the pirates hip. His anger only grew further. "You broke free!"

"There is a very dangerous Sith loose on your ship," Obi-Wan barked. "I would suggest you return our sabres and allow us to track her down."

"Of course," Hondo let out an empty laugh, plucking the lightsabers from his belt and handing them their weapons. "She is causing havoc in the primary hangar at the moment." He informed them. The two Jedi picked up their pace and sped ahead of the pirates towards the hangar.

All the corridors began to blur together into a hazy mess as he sprinted through them. He focused on breathing and trying to ease his intense rage. Before long, they burst into the hangar. The far wall was already wide open, revealing the glowing yellowed orb of a planet that was Florrum. The blackness of space illuminated the bleak, barren landscapes that could be seen from so far away. There were many dead pirates scattered all across the floor. A small shuttle was lifting steadily from the ground and huge plumes of exhaust fumes smashed into them. Several of the ships lay in tattered pieces. Some were strategically dismantled, others blown to smithereens. Smouldering black spots peppered the floor. 

Anakin gritted his teeth and ran towards the small, clunky shuttle. It was veering towards the open exit. He had to dodge around a few skeletal ships and race across an open expanse of hangar to get bet close to the shuttle. Inside the ship, he could feel a dark presence shifting and oozing. Drawing his lightsaber, he prepared to jump after it. Two little guns on the ship's flank angled themselves towards him, forcing him to throw himself off to the side as a heavy rain of turret fire came raining down on them. Pulling himself together, he watched in dismay as the ship broke out of the hangar and into open space. Sheathing his blade, his arms dropped to his sides. The only solace he had was knowing that the shuttle wouldn't be able to jump to hyperspace. The only place the assassin could go was Florrum, and he would catch up. "What are you waiting for!" Obi-Wan's voice tugged at his attention. The Jedi master was standing next to a boxy shuttle, that was in relatively good condition, beckoning him urgently with a hand. The ramp was slowly lowering to the ground. Anakin clenched his hands and stormed over to their new transport.

*

Malice growled to herself as her hands flew over the curving flight console before her. The bland surface of Florrum was fast approaching in the viewport. The arachnid man, Admiral Trench was pressed into one of the passenger seats. The two dominant hands were clutching arm rests. The ship's engine chortled and hummed. Slamming down on the oval communicator that was built into the control panel, a blue small hologram of the robotic monstrosity Greivous burst to life on top of it. "Malice," the general rubbed his hands together, "How is your mission going?"

"I have Trench and I am fleeing to surface of Florrum," she answered curtly, dropping down into the pilot seat. A glance at her radar told her there was another shuttle racing towards the surface behind her that was sending a barrage of deadly bolts at them. Within that shuttle, she could feel two light presences. One was steady and calm like the flow of a stream, the other choppy and aggressive like a sea just before storm. "There are two Jedi in pursuit." The ship rattled as she burst through the planet’s upper atmosphere. 

"I'm in orbit in the opposite side of the planet. Send the coordinates of your touchdown and I will provide an extraction team," Greivous wheezed a cough. Malice ended the transmission. The shuttle rocked as one of the Jedi's bolts made impact. There was a loud bang and red lights began to flicker all across the console. A shrill, wailing alarm sounded from the monitors. They were growing so close to the planets surface, that she was able to pick out the mountainous sand dunes from the expansive, yellow desert. Doing everything in her power to slow the shuttle down, her heart leapt into her throat when the viewport became tinged with long streaks of orange flame. 

They had minutes before impact, and with the speed they were travelling at, they would be instantly obliterated. Sucking in a deep breath, she threw her arms out before her. Summoning all of her rage, she focused on slowing the shuttle. Sweat beaded her hairline and her body strained in effort. The muscles in her arms and neck went completely ridged. Trying to siphon speed from the shuttle was like holding onto the reigns of an angry rancor. Rooting herself even deeper into the force, she squeezed her eyes shut and let out a grunt of effort. Much to her relief, the plummet slowed.

When they finally landed, they were still going fast enough that her body was thrown hard into the console in front of her. Her stomach collided with its hard edge and she felt a distinctive crack. The viewport shattered as the nose of the ship was embedded in the sand. Thwacking her head off the solid metal before her, the world became a spinning mess. Every inch of her ached as she lay limp across the ship's sparking console. Noise rang in her ears and it felt as though the ground was shifting below her. The cockpit was lit only by the red, blaring lights. 

Groaning, she weakly pushed herself up. Pain burst to life in her upper abdomen, drawing a sharp hiss from her lips. Even though the pain became so intense she was seeing double, she got back up onto her feet. The cockpit was slanting forwards and all of the rubble and mess that had fallen during the decent had collected towards the tip of the shuttle. Trench was slowly picking himself up from the floor. A few of his metal arms were bent badly out of shape, but he seemed to be okay otherwise. A high-pitched wheeze caught her attention. It was a sound she knew well. Gritting her teeth, she ignited one of her lightsabers and reached up over her head. The agony in her lower ribs fuelled her connection to the darkside. Plunging her blade into the roof of the shuttle, she began cutting a crude circle. The metal around her lightsaber swelled into a molten orange ooze and let out sizzling groans. The wheeze was growing louder. Trench lumbered over towards her, questioning what she was doing. Grunting in pain, she completed the circle and took a step back as the chunk of roof she had cut out collapsed inwards and clattered down to the floor. Blinding light poured in. The wheeze was beginning to sound more like a high pitched screaming. Gripping one of Trench's arms, she launched them both out of the shuttle with the help of the force.

For a few moments, they were sailing through sapphire skies. As far as the eye could see, the desert dominated the landscape. Only the occasional dead and dehydrated plant life acted as topical details on its bland face. The pair landed with a thump by a small dune. Malice tugged herself and Trench down behind it, shielding themselves from the crashed ship. A huge boom thundered through the air and vibrated through the sand. A powerful, scalding hot blast wave blew over the top of the dune, missing them by a hair’s breadth. The noise of shifting and groaning metal, of the settling ship, was nearly drowned out by the ringing in her ears. Malice lay there for a moment. It felt as though her bottom few ribs had been pulverised. Every breath sent shocks of pain shooting across her sides. "Perhaps now would be a good time to send Grievous our coordinates," Trench commented, his mouth pincers flicked together. Lifting an arm, she stared at her armoured gauntlet. A wrist communicator had a green light steadily blinking upon it. With a shaky hand, she pressed down hard on a few buttons. The light went dim. The extraction team should be there soon, for their own good.

The two light side presences pulled at her attention. The Jedi. Gritting her teeth, she shakily pushed herself to her feet. Her heart was pounding in her chest. "Stay hidden," she hissed down at Trench. He arachnid nodded, pressing himself lower to the ground. Their shuttle was a mess of broken machinery that lay on a bed of black, scorched sand. Great plumes of dirty smoke poured off of it. Scraps of metal were scattered all over the ground around it. The Jedi were exiting their own shuttle that had safely touched down not too far away. They strutted down the ramp and, even though their faces were slightly blurred from distance, she could see their nasty glares. Malice cursed herself for not being strong enough to kill them when she had the chance.

Edging away from where Trench hid, she righted herself and drew a steady flow of the force through her. The Jedi marched closer. With every agonising breath she took, her connection to the dark side grew. "It looks like you had an eventful landing," Kenobi called to her as he approached. Their features sharpened with their increasing proximity.

Malice's hands hung loosely by her lightsabers. "You have to spice life up somehow, it gets too boring otherwise," she snorted back. The two Jedi split off from one another and cautiously advanced on either side of her.

"I feel terribly rude, you spared our lives so graciously and I don't even know your name," Kenobi sent her a deceptively sweet smile. The unbearable heat from the sun above was roasting her alive. A thin film of sweat clung to her body.

"I've been called many things in my time Kenobi," Malice let out a humourless chuckle, plucking her two, double sided lightsabers from her belt. "Nowadays they just call me Malice." Taking a step back, she lowered herself into a fighting stance. The Jedi drew their own weapons, instantly igniting them. The blue of their blades nearly blended perfectly into the sky above. They were on opposite sides of her, forcing her to cock her head to either side to see them.

"No, no, no," Skywalker sent her a cruel smile. "We want to know the name of the senator that doubles as a Sith Assassin." Malice clenched her jaw. No such person existed. Malice was a Sith Assassin who just so happened to share the same body as Padmé the senator.

Malice let out a low hum. "I guess you'll just have to kill me and take the mask off yourself," she grumbled, igniting all four of her crimson blades simultaneously. Their hum alone was enough to ease her pounding heart rate. 

"Believe me, I will," Skywalker snarled and both Jedi lunged towards her. Despite the pain that flared up in her torso, she flipped back out of their reach and landed with a soft thunk in the sand. There was no time to collect her thoughts as they were upon her in seconds. All three of them engaged in a fierce fight across the shifting ground. Malice twirled her blades like spinning batons, instantly knocking away any of their attacks and keeping them a comfortable distance away. In her mind she kept repeating that she didn't need to beat them, just keep them occupied long enough for the extraction team to arrive.

Due to the constant ducking, jumping and twisting, her abdomen was screaming at her. It took a significant amount of her concentration to stifle the pained whimpers that formed in her throat. The dark side was thriving within her, purring in delight at her pain. Reaching out with the force, she launched a piece of scrap metal towards the Jedi. Their attacks faltered, allowing her to bounce away from them and regain her composure with the few shallow breaths she could muster. 

They attacked her again. Together all three danced through a minefield of broken ship parts. Their blows were solid and strong, but her way of manipulating her weapon made their blades slide harmlessly off her own as though they were nothing more than two crossed twigs being pulled apart by the wind. A particular vicious blow from Skywalker however, knocked one of her lightsabers clean from her grasp. Growling beneath her breath, she used the force to throw up a cloud of sand in their eyes. It caused them to falter, allowing her to lift a number of machine parts and rain them down on the jedi. Skywalker successfully dodged her barrage but a chunk of engine metal collided with Kenobi's back, sending him crumpling to the floor.

Skywalker glanced down at his friend momentarily before stabbing at her with intensified aggression. The pair clashed all around the shuttle's crash site. A well placed swipe combined with an unrelenting force push knocked her last light sabre from her hands and sent her flying backwards. Landing hard on her back, the air was knocked from her lungs. The slight daze she had been thrust into allowed Skywalker to lower his blade to her neck and plunge a knee into her gut. Her damaged body crunched beneath him. The crippling pain that wracked her body drew a cry from her lips. Due to the mask's speech scrambler, it came out sounding like something demonic and inhuman. White lights streaked across her vision. Both of her hands gripped at either side of the Jedi's knee, weakly pushing up to ease some of the weight he was bearing down on her stomach. 

Skywalker glared down at her from above, the heat of his blade sizzled at the skin on her neck. His chest heaved, pulling in deep, steady breaths. It was the complete opposite to the short and staccato breathing of Malice. If she drew in too much air, her abdomen would scream in protest and her muscles would thrust any breath she had back out. Pushing his blade closer to her neck with his ungloved hand, he lifted himself to a crouch and removed the pressure on her stomach. Relief washed over her. Out of the corner of her vision, she could see her lightsaber lying in the sand. He reached his gloved hand down towards her face. Thrusting her arm out to one side, she summoned her blade to her hand and ignited it in the air. The moment it's cool metal hit her palm, she twisted it around and severed his hand before it could even reach her mask.

Letting out a startled yelp, he jumped back from her. Malice leapt to her feet, ignoring the intense pain that was tearing apart her insides. It was much worse than before. She could no longer fully straighten up for the agony it caused her. It left her doubled over with one hand pressed against her ribs in a desperate attempt to soothe her injury. Staring at Skywalker, her heart dropped a little. What should have been a bloodied stump was nothing more than a mess of sparking machinery. Of course he had a cybernetic hands and of course that was the only limb she managed to cut off. Growling beneath her breath, she slowly backed away from him. He twirled his sapphire blade in his one functional hand. Kenobi had picked himself up from the ground and was steadily advancing towards her. "What's wrong Malice, I thought you said it was only fun when we could fight back?" Skywalker snapped, a nasty sneer curled his lips.

The whoosh of a ship lowering itself to the ground sent waves of relief washing over her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the extraction ship touching down on the sand just beside where she had left Trench. Not too far away, she could see her other lightsaber glinting under the sun. Lifting a hand, she drew it back to her hand. The Jedi ground to a halt upon seeing the ship. Malice retreated towards it. Once again, she looked over her shoulder. The ramp had touched down and Trench was clambering through the large platoon of battle droids that came pouring out of the ship. "It was fun," Malice laughed back, wheezing ever so slightly when sharp pain shot through her. Their eyes narrowed on her. "Maybe next time I’ll show you what a lightsaber blade tastes like." Turning on her heels, she bolted towards the extraction ship. They didn’t give chase.

The droids began firing on the Jedi as she wove through them and dove into the safe belly of the ship. The ramp lifted the moment she was on board. Cool air swirled around her. Malice allowed herself to drop down to the floor and rolled into her back. The ramp sealed, leaving them in relative darkness. The noise of the Admiral barking orders in the cockpit buzzed in her ears. The engines purred and vibrated the floor beneath her as the ship took off. Those droids would be no problem for the Jedi, she knew they'd make quick work of them, which allowed her to dread meeting them on the battle field once again.

Holding in a groan, she propped herself up with one arm. Now that the dark side was slipping from her grasps, the pain was becoming so intense her vision was hazing. She would no doubt have to make a stop at some hospital on some random backwater planet. There was no way she could let Padmé return to a body like this, it would raise far to many suspicions.


	8. Not Home

Obi-Wan could practically feel Anakin's exhaustion as though it were his own. It was a heavy cloud that had been hovering over the Jedi for weeks. As they stood at the centre of the council chamber on Coruscant, it was clear a few of the other Jedi masters could sense it as well. Yoda was peering at him with concern crinkled eyes. Bright sunlight streamed through the tall windows and illuminated the many Jedi masters that sat in a circle around them. Several were blue, flickering holograms. "So this... Malice," Windu sat forwards, leaning on one elbow. "Is actually a senator in the senate?"

"According to the pirate who saw her face," Obi-Wan hummed, lifting a hand and scratching his beard. "He also seemed to think she was a fairly influential senator. Malice herself never denied this."

"What of you, Skywalker?" Yoda hummed. Anakin straightened out slightly, blinking hard. "Your impression of the Sith, what was?"

"Just as Obi-Wan said," Anakin grumbled. "It seems like she has used her Sith abilities to become a politician with sway and act as a double agent for the Separatists."

"I don't know if we should jump to that conclusion just yet," Mace narrowed her eyes and pressed his lips against his knuckles. Even although he normally would have, Anakin didn't respond. Instead, he just blinked owlishly at the Jedi masters. An unnatural silence descended upon them as though they were waiting for him to suddenly snap.

"If all the information you have to add, that is, then dismissed you are," Yoda told him. Anakin dipped his head. "Tell you what our final decision is, later we will." 

"Of course, Master," Anakin acknowledge them one last time, before slipping out of the room. Obi-Wan let out a deep sigh and returned to his own chair on the council. 

"Sensed there was something bothering Skywalker, I did," Yoda turned to Obi-Wan, clasping his hands together over the top of his walking stick. All eyes focused on the bearded Jedi.

"Yes, I am quite worried," Obi-Wan admitted. "He has been getting progressively more distracted and lethargic over the past few weeks. I fear he might finally be reaching a burn out." A soft murmur spread through the council chamber. They all knew how straining the war had been. It had every single Jedi strung out and flayed to the bone. Battle on the front was a very mentally taxing experience and of them all, Anakin might have spent the most time out there fighting.

"Maybe it's time he was given some leave," Ki Adi Mundi suggested, doleful brown eyes peered into Obi-Wan's own.

Obi-Wan pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head. "I don't think he'd take too fondly to that," he sighed. "He wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting involved in the war effort somehow." Even as a padawan he had constantly been on the go and was always looking towards the horizon. Sure it meant he tripped up on what was right before him, but he always kept Obi-Wan on his toes.

"Then perhaps we should assign him to investigate the senate to find out Malice's real identity," Plo Koon proposed, leaning forwards. "It would surely give him time to recuperate here on Coruscant."

"I don't know if he is in the right state of mind to be trusted with such an important mission," Obi-Wan answered honestly. Although Anakin would never thank him for saying something like that, it was for the best. With how tired and stressed he had become, he could very easily fall victim to Malice's cunning. 

"Aid and monitor him, you will," Yoda instructed him. "Tell him the truth of Darth Sidious, you should."

A few of the Jedi masters looked startled by this. Windu leaned forwards, his brow creasing. "Are you certain that is a wise decision, master Yoda?" he asked with calm rigidity. Obi-Wan knew Anakin would be furious if he found out that they had with held so much information about the separatist leader, but he had no idea how he would react beyond that. After all, Anakin was known for his impulsivity.

"Track down Malice, if they are to, then use her to find Sidious, we could," Yoda explained, sitting back into his chair. "If to have any chance at succeeding, they are, then know, he must."

*

Anakin repeatedly flexed his new cybernetic limb as he meandered through the senate hallways. It was a little stiffer than his last one, but significantly stronger. All the mechanics and thick wires were hidden beneath his black gauntlet, but he could feel the machine parts whirring every time he moved it. The bright lights shining down on him from above all seemed to haze together. The chatty, colloquial noise of the senators that he passed by sounded distant and surreal. The constant ache in his bones was the only thing that reminded him he wasn't walking around in a dream. 

There was an intense longing that was twisting his heart. Even if it was just to make sure Padmé was still okay and unharmed, he needed to see her. Ever since the pirate fiasco, he had experienced a deep feeling of dread that was tugging on his gut. He couldn't explain why, but he had a terrible sense something bad had happened to her or was about to. No amount of self assuring could convince him she was safe. If could have been because of his sleep deprived mind, however he recognised the soothing touch of the force on his emotions. 

A buzz of unease settled over him. After visiting her office and finding it empty, his heart had picked up a little pace. The nerves were made significantly worse by the fact she hadn't responded to any of his transmissions over the past few rotations. Taking in deep breaths as he walked, he tried in vein to locate her the force. Hundreds of emotions and presences twinkled around him, but none of them were her. It didn't startle him too much because she was notoriously difficult sense. Sometimes when he was standing right beside her, he couldn't feel her at all. He had always assumed it was because of her stubbornness. Through sheer will power she had managed to construct some pretty impressive mental defences, even if she didn't know it. 

The sight of a familiar face caught his eye. Bail Organa was strolling down the corridor towards him with his head hung and eyes focused on the data pad he had clutched in his hands. As he drew closer, Anakin called out, "Senator Organa!" 

The senators head snapped up towards the Jedi. After a moment, a warm smile lit his features. "General Skywalker," Bail greeted him back. The pair veered off to the edge of the hallway and stood face to face by the wall. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

"I was hoping to speak to senator Amidala about a set of negotiations I have coming up in a few rotations," Anakin lied, folding his arms into his long, loose sleeves. "Do you know where she is?" Organa's smile faltered. An outpouring of betrayal and annoyance streamed from his mind. Anakin had to fight a shocked expression from springing to his face. Padmé and Bail were very close friends. Something bad must have occurred between the pair to make him react so negatively to the mere mention of her name. Not willing to pry, he kept his mouth shut. Whatever had occurred between them was none of business and he was certain Padmé would not want him to get involved.

"She is off world right now to negotiate with the Rodian colonists on Hoth," he explained. Anakin scrunched his face up. He had never heard or Rodian colonists on Hoth. Could they even survive in an environment so opposite of their home world? Padmé hadn't mentioned leaving Coruscant to him, but then again they hadn't been very good at staying in contact over the past few weeks.

"When is she due back?" Anakin asked.

Bail's lips strained to hold their smile. It was a very startling sight to see on such a warm hearted man. "Unfortunately, she didn't say."

Anakin's gut sank. If he didn't see her before he was sent to the front again, which would be in a few days no doubt, he might go insane. Even just a glimpse from a distance would be enough. "I see," he murmured, shifting on his feet.

"If you still need assistance with your negotiations before she returns, feel free to visit my office," Bail's smile returned to its natural, wide state.

"Thank you," Anakin chuckled, but the unease within him was growing to be unbearable.


	9. Weary Uncertainty

Anakin was beyond concerned. As he sat basking in the serene light in one of the Jedi temple meditation gardens. He had his eyes squeezed shut and was trying in vein to meditate on Padmé's location. All he could see was her pinned beneath that rock, screaming. Blood was everywhere. That scarlet handprint was tattooed onto the back of his eyelids. The night before , he had spent his first time in Padmé's apartment alone. He’d been unable to will himself to sleep in his room at the Jedi temple, but her apartment had felt completely empty without her. Just like his room would have. The whole time he was meant to be sleeping, he had been staring up at the beige ceiling above him. The sinking sand of panic was slowly pulling him under. As a result, he was trembling from lack of sleep. A cold ache gnawed at his bones. Every move he made was painfully slow. His muscles ached with a raw weariness he had never experienced before in his life.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan's voice tugged his attention. The Jedi's eyes snapped open. The shock sent a momentary rush of adrenaline powering through his veins. The false, blue sky above shone down on Obi-Wan as he towered over Anakin, who was sitting cross legged on the floor. They were in a tiny little grove. Tall trees and thick bushes covered in blossoming flowers rose tall all around them. A short layer of fluffy grass lay beneath him. Anakin hadn't felt his former master’s approach. It seemed his fatigue was even interfering with his connection to the force. "The council have given us our next assignment," Obi-Wan told him and lowered himself to the grass so that they were sitting side by side. 

Anakin's shoulders dropped and his stomach tensed. It seemed he really wasn't going to see Padmé for another long while. If she was even alive. He had to bat that thought from his mind before it stirred all sorts of chaos in his mind. Blinking his dry eyes, he glared down at the grass in front of him. "Where to this time?" he grumbled, pulling his face into a frown. He was too tired to care about the way his words came out slightly slurred.

"We are staying on Coruscant," Obi-Wan chirped, watching Anakin from the corner of his eyes. Just as quickly as the young Jedi’s mood had dropped, it picked itself back up again. The scowl eased off his face. "We are to investigate and interrogate all of the senators that were off world when we clashed with Malice."

"It seems we've been dealing with her a lot lately," he let out a humourless laugh. It did make sense that they were the ones tracking her down. They were the only Jedi who had met her. Either way, he was just happy he would get to spend a little longer on a Coruscant.

"Indeed," Obi-Wan agreed. A strange silence fell over them and Anakin could sense the master’s mind heavily deliberating over something. Instead of rushing the older Jedi, the younger Jedi simply relished the the humid heat of the air and admired the fake, but scarily realistic twittering of birds. "There is something I must tell you about the Sith," he finally spoke. Anakin turned his head towards him and cocked an eyebrow. "Dooku has a master named Darth Sidious," Obi-Wan admitted, blowing out a long breath. Anakin had assumed as much, but he had no idea the Jedi council actually had proof beyond speculation. "Dooku told me a long time ago that Sidious is in a powerful position at the senate." Anakin leaned forwards, planting his elbows on his knees. "It was them that originally commissioned the production of the clones along with a fellow Jedi."

Anakin's jaw clenched tightly. "You're just telling me now?" he growled. "After I've been fighting this war for years, don't you think that is relevant information?" If the clones were created by Sidious, then this was was nothing more than a ploy. A plot. For all they knew, they could be playing right into the Sith's hands.

"It was kept within the council to stop widespread panic," Obi-Wan defended himself, but stared off into the distance.

"Not even the Chancellor knows this war is nothing but a Sith scheme?" Anakin's brows lifted, his mouth going slack. He knew the council was keeping secrets, but this was beyond ridiculous. They had the rest of the Jedi fighting a war that didn't make any sense. Then again, if they didn't fight, hundreds of lives would be lost to the Separatist brutality.

"And it's going stay that way," Obi-Wan sent him a pointed stare. Anakin sucked on his teeth. His weary mind was struggling to process all this new information. Although he objected, he knew better than to disobey the council's wishes for something this important. If they trusted him with this information, he shouldn't throw it back in their faces. They might never tell him anything again.

Raising a shaky hand, he rubbed his eyes. "Does that mean you think Sidious is Malice?" he asked with a wide yawn.

"No, master Yoda has met Sidious in a force vision and is certain they are two separate entities," Obi-Wan studied him closely. Anakin tried to ignore the concern that wrinkled his eyes. Unable to meet the master’s gaze, he found himself glaring at the grass once more. "The council believes that if we capture Malice successfully, we will be able to use her to find Sidious and end this war before he can enact whatever awful plan he has in store."

"When do we start?" Anakin sighed.

"The investigation droid we are working with will be arriving tomorrow morning, so I suggest we meet at the senate building as early as possible," Obi-Wan proposed calmly. Anakin dipped his head, he supposed it would do him some good to have anything else but Padmé to focus on.

*

Padmé slowly felt her consciousness returning to her. Tingles of sensation crept back into her body. It took a few seconds of intense confusion before she realised she was sitting on a cushioned chair. Her elbows were propped against something hard and her head was buried in her hands. The distant noise of Coruscant traffic was the only sound she could pick up on besides the rushing of her breath. A sweet perfume lingered in the air. It was her perfume. The one she wore whilst she was working. 

Lifting her head from her hands, she glanced around. A haze of bright light sharpened into the familiar space of her office. Padmé began to straighten herself out but went rigid when an unfamiliar pain shot across her rib cage. A high pitched whimper escaped her lips. Glancing down at herself, she noticed she was in one of her senatorial gowns. A hot slap of panic coursed through her as she realised she was coming around from another lapse in memory. "Not again," she whispered, emotion bubbled to her eyes. Pushing herself away from the desk, she ignored the pain in her abdomen. It hurt enough to steal away her breath, but it wasn't so terrible she had to grit her teeth to bare it.

Just as she began processing her situation, the door to her office slid open with a whoosh. Blinking back tears, she focused on the purple robes of Bail Organa as he strutted into her office. Padmé put on a shaky smile, but faltered when she saw the stern scowl on his face. "Senator Amidala, I hope your mission with the Rodian colonists on Hoth was successful?" he spoke warmly, but there was an anger that lingered behind every word.

Padmé bit down on her lip. She had no memory of going to Hoth, so she supposed that's what she did during her black out. It felt like rocks had been placed in her gut. How long had she been gone? "Yes..." Padmé responded slowly, flicking her eyes down to the holopad on her desk and turning it on by tapping the screen. It lit up with date and time. Her heart stopped beating. It was thirteen rotations worth of memory she was missing. "It went well," she blinked hard, a cold numbness seeped into her bones. If she hadn't been keeping up with her duties like the last time she had been on a senatorial mission, she would surely have a mountain of work to catch up on.

"I must say, I was a little disappointed you chose to go to Hoth instead of presenting our abolition of clone production bill to the senate," he spoke with a ferocity she had never heard angled towards herself. Padmé's mouth hung open and she pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the burst of pain in her lower rib cage. "We needed you," his voice was pained and slightly accusing.

Padmé held his dark stare. That bill had been months in the making and she had spent countless sleepless nights pulling it together. If she had chosen to go to Hoth over presenting it, there must have been a very valid decision. "The Rodians needed me to," she spoke calmly, attempting to reassure herself more than him. Walking around the desk, she stood before him with an apologetic smile. He tracked her with angered eyes. 

"You could have at least let me know before I stood before the senate, only to be told you had been sent off world by the Chancellor!" he argued, anger reflecting in his eyes.

Padmé swallowed hard. That didn't sound like her. That didn't sound like her at all. "I'm really sorry Bail," She clasped her hands over her heart. "That was inexcusable and I shouldn't have left without saying something. I guess I was just caught up in a rush to get to Hoth."

Bail pressed his lips into a thin line and let out a long, deep sigh. "I'm sorry Padmé," he lifted his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are a wonderful person and I shouldn't be taking my frustrations out on you." Turning away from her, he leaned down on the desk. "I was just really hoping this would be our big breakthrough for galactic peace."

Padmé placed a hand on his arm. "It's okay," she murmured. "We just need to be persistent. We will get there." From his reaction, she could tell the bill hadn't been received well. That broke her heart. She couldn't help but wonder if things might have turned out differently if she had stayed to help. Swatting the thought from her mind, she reminded herself there was nothing she could do about it now.

Bail rose to his full height and sent her a sad smile. "I know we will," he planted a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. A moment of somber silence passed between them as they traded a weary glance. "I had better get back to work," he sighed, turning and striding towards the door. Halting as he reached it, he peered back over his shoulder. "General Skywalker was looked for your help with some negotiations he has coming up by the way," Bail told her. With a fond wave, he slipped out the door and into the corridors beyond.

Padmé stroked at her jaw. If Anakin was asking others for her location, it most likely meant she hadn't told him where she was going either. Deep wrinkles cut into her forehead. This was getting out of hand. Sitting on the edge of her desk, she gritted her teeth. It was about time she sought medical advice about these blackouts. She couldn't have them interfering with her life anymore. As for Anakin, well she was sure he would make an appearance before the day was through. If not, she would probably see him later on that night at her apartment.


	10. No Talk

Just as Padmé expected, Anakin came to visit her when the sun began sinking behind the Coruscant skyline. What she couldn't have predicted, was how exhausted he looked. Initially she hadn't noticed because she was wrapped so tightly into his embrace. The first thing that caught her concern was his distinct lack of scent. That spicy cologne he loved to wear was not wafting off of his dark robes like it normally did. Pulling away from his warmth, she peered up at his face. The whites of his eyes were completely bloodshot and highlighted by dark, purple bags. His normally tan skin had taken on a grey tint and his tousled hair was even messier than normal. In all aspects, he looked the closest someone with a physical body could to a ghost. A deathly misery darkened his gaze. Takin a sharp inhale, her brows pulled together. Lifting a hand, she placed it on the side of his face. "Oh Anakin," she murmured, running a thumb beneath his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I thought you might be dead," he spoke in a whisper. Pulling her in close, he wrapped her in an even tighter hug and rested his chin on the crown of her head. "I was so scared." Padmé returned his embrace in a heartbeat. Guilt rose within her like fire climbing a tree. For him to admit his terror without any prompt, it must have been tearing him apart. "Why didn't you respond to my transmissions?" There was nothing accusatory in his voice, just pain. 

"I didn't see them Ani," she answered him. The only reason she could think that she wouldn't have sent one back was because she hadn't known he sent her one in the first place. "What's really wrong?" she asked again. There was no way that her not answering his transmissions had whipped him into such a state. Although he was a little overprotective, even this was a bit much for him.

"I'm just glad you are okay," she could hear his voice rumbling in his chest. Closing her eyes over, she just focused on the steady beating of his heart. It was clear he didn't want to share what was distressing him so much and he was not in the mindset to do so anyway. Padmé was more than happy to wait until he was ready, but that wouldn't stop her worrying.

Much later on that evening, Padmé lay alone in bed. Distant traffic rumbled quietly. Despite the way her body had practically melted into the mattress and her weary mind begged for sleep, she found herself quite unable to drift off. A nervous concern buzzed inside of her. Not even the warmth of her covers could soothe the distress. With wide eyes, she stared blankly at the ceiling above. A few stripes of pale city light cut through the darkness. 

When she was a child, she had grown up sharing a bed with her mother. It was a constant support and warmth, even in the darkest of nights. When her mother had perished, Padmé had found it next to impossible to sleep for the next several years. As she lay awake, she would always have the innate feeling something was missing. Over time she had adapted to the change, but never really fell into a a deep slumber. Then came Anakin. She didn't need him to hold her close or ever feel his touch whilst they slept, just knowing he was there was enough to turn her into the galaxies heaviest sleeper. The nights he wasn't on Coruscant were always filled with worry. The nights he was, but not by her side, were usually a little easier. At least then she knew he was safe. With his recent antics however, she found herself more concerned than all of those nights combined.

Anakin was in the apartment and she could occasionally pick out the noise of him walking around the living room. After they had reunited earlier that day, he had vanished until the sun had been set for several hours. The aloof behaviour she was used to, but normally when he was at the apartment he would follow her around like a lost puppy. It was very jarring, his decision to remain distant from her. 

The sight of his sleep deprived eyes haunted her, twisting her stomach into knots. He'd told her he was carrying out investigations in the senate, but hadn't specified what. She wondered if they were the root of his evident distress. Whatever it was, he still wasn't willing to share. Never before, had she seen him so torn apart. It was breaking her heart to watch him crumble and not even be able to catch the crumbs. With a sigh, pried herself from the comfort of the bed and pushed herself to sit up. She winced as pain flared across her stomach. When she'd inspected it earlier, there was a lot of dark bruising across her abdomen. The negotiations on Hoth must have gotten a little rough. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she rose steadily to her feet. The floor was cold and hard.

Padding through the darkness, she crept to the living room. When she poked her head around the doorway, she was nearly blinded by the intense lighting. Screwing one eye shut, she peered out across the space and immediately caught sight of Anakin. He was siting, haunched over on one of the blue sofas. It looked as though he was tinkering with a machine part. A soft clicking noise bounced off the object of his interest. Even from so far away, she could see his shoulders were drooping as though something heavy was weighing them down. "Anakin," she spoke in a croaky, low voice. His head lifted towards her and his tinkering halted. "You may be a Jedi, but you still need to sleep." His mouth cracked open, but he held his tongue. "Come to bed."

"I'll be there soon, I just need to finish this," he lifted the machine part, showing it off.

Padmé rubbed her eyes and let out a gentle yawn. "If you don't finish that tonight, will somebody die tomorrow?" she asked with a strict tone.

"N-no," he stuttered. "But I won't be able to sleep until it completed." His eyes dropped to the floor. Leaning against the doorway, she circled her arms around her waist. Confusion cocked its fuzzy head inside of her. Why was he lying? "You should just go back to bed."

Padmé lifted herself to her feet and stalked towards him. Anakin raised cautious eyes to watch her approach. Crouching down in front of him, she placed her hands on his knee. "What's bothering you Ani?" She asked, staring up at him. "Why won't you talk to me?"

Anakin glared down at his hands and began grinding his teeth. "I can't tell you Padmé..." his voice strained. Lifting torn eyes to her own, he continued, "just please go back to bed." The sheer desperation in his pleading glance tugged on her heart. Whatever was hurting him was doing a lot more damage than she had expected. He was looking at her as though she was a bad memory. As though the mere sight of her was cutting him to his very soul. Padmé couldn't stifle the hurt that coiled its thorny branches around her chest. 

"I'm here if you need me," she mumered, slight shock reverberating through her. All the words she should have said were silenced on her tongue. Padmé didn't want to pry his mind open when he so clearly didn't want her near him. 

"I'll join you soon," he said, his eyes dropping back down to the machine he was tinkering with. When he didn't say anything more, she let out a sigh of defeat. Pushing herself back up to her feet, she leaned over him and planted a delicate kiss on his forehead. His skin was cold beneath her lips. He went stiff.

Padmé slunk back to the bedroom and flopped down on her side, ignoring the intense pain the burned in her abdomen. An even stronger pain was crushing her heart. Closing her eyes over, she lay awake for a long while before she finally drifted off to sleep. When she awoke the next morning, Anakin's side of the bed was completely untouched and he had already left the apartment.

*

The text in front of his eyes blurred as he skimmed it over. The data pad he was holding in his hands was quivering along with him. The Jedi archives were silent. He had found a little table in the corner of the room that was secluded behind a particularly tall and wide rectangular column, that glowed blue with the knowledge of the thousands of holocrons within. Every inch of him ached with weariness and his attention kept drifting away. To her. To her blood covered face. It had been several rotations filled with agonised worry he'd had to wait before she reappeared on Coruscant. One of the only things he'd been able to do to ease his concern was to pour over all of the holocrons that contained information about healing using the force. He would never hurt her like he did in his dreams, but it wouldn't be bad if he researched some ways he could help and heal her should the visions come to pass. Any moment he wasn't interrogating senators, he was in the Jedi archives.

That morning however, he was finding it particularly difficult to concentrate. The conversation he had with Padmé the night before just kept replaying in his mind. The hurt she had felt when he refused to open up to her had hit him like a stab to his already bleeding heart. It was so rarely he was able to sense her emotions, that they always caught him off guard. What was he supposed to say to her anyway? 'Hey, I've been having really violent dreams recently about crushing you under rocks,' yes, he was sure that would go down well. Guilt churned within him and he dropped the holopad to the desk. Holding his head up by propping his jaw against his hands, he tried in vein to focus on the text before him. Anakin knew Padmé loved him, but he didn't know how she would react upon hearing how he kept having dreams about mortally wounding her. The last thing he wanted was her to be cautious of him. 

What was he thinking? Anakin was doing her no justice. Padmé was as strong willed as they came. There was no way she would be scared by his premonitions. Clenching his jaw, he realised that by not telling her, he was driving more of a wedge between them that the truth ever would. The next chance he got, he would explain to her what was really going on. 

With a heart set with resolve, he returned his attention to the holopad. After a few moments of skimming a large variety of force techniques, he could feel his shoulders dropping. All of the healing abilities he had found either had not enough impact or were not relevant to the kind of damage Padmé was suffering from in his dreams. Grasping handfuls of his hair, he didn't stop researching. Not much later, a particular title caught his interest. 'Breaking Crafted Walls.’ It seemed to be a technique that was used to lift intense mental shields that had been placed around a patient’s mind by another force user. Scrunching his nose, he couldn’t help but think of all the awful possibilities there were to walling off someone’s mind. Just as Anakin was going to flick away, the force whispered gently in his ear and encouraged him to learn it. Gritting his teeth, he sighed. The time he spent learning this technique would be wasted when he could be finding a way to help Padmé, but he would be a fool to deny the force.


	11. Home Is Who Holds Your Heart

Padmé was astounded by the sheer amount of work she had to catch up on. It didn't help her mind was moving slowly because it was so weighed down by her concern for Anakin. Data pads were scattered all over her desk and an orange light poured into her office through the tall windows. Long strands of hair hung out from her intricate updo and dangled in front of her face. She had been in her office since early that morning answering transmissions and researching the latest happenings of the senate. After leaning over her desk for so long, a deep ache dragged its nails down her back and a headache pounded in her skull. Despite her weariness, she found herself dreading her return home. There was no way she could predict what sort of state Anakin would be in. Part of her didn't want to face a rejection again, but the rest of her knew she needed to try and talk to him at least once more. There was no way she was willing to let himself suffer through whatever it was that was bothering him alone.

The office door slid open with a whoosh. Padmé lifted her hands and brushed her stray pieces of hair back into place. Obi-Wan strode into her office wearing a welcoming smile. "Hello Senator Amidala, is there any chance we could have a moment of your time?" he asked. Anakin lurked just behind him with a gloomy scowl. A droid waddled beside them. It was short and had a large rectangular head with a stout, rounded body.

"Of course," Padmé chirped, leaning back into her seat and clasping her hands over her stomach. The two Jedi, accompanied by the droid, stopped just in front of her desk. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" she cocked a brow and allowed a smile to perk her lips. She could feel Anakin's dark eyes resting on her, but she didn't meet his gaze for fear of what she might see.

"This is an official interrogation," the little droid bleeped. Padmé's brows shot up. "Unfortunately, we cannot divulge any more information." What could they be interrogating her for? If the Jedi were conducting an investigation, then it surely must be something very serious. Unrest shifted within her.

"It's more of a formality," Anakin hummed, clearing his throat. Padmé finally glanced towards him. His bloodshot, blue eyes were blank as they always were when they were interacting in public. Still, it unsettled her even more. Could this be the reason he was so distant? Did he think she had committed some heinous crime? Is that why he couldn't speak about the thing that was distressing him? Keeping her face neutral was difficult as she realised she had probably over reacted to this whole situation. It was so selfish of her to be hurt by his unwillingness to share when she hadn't stopped to think that perhaps he quite literally couldn't.

"What do you need to know?" she flicked her eyes to Obi-Wan and the droid. Kenobi however, was staring between her and Anakin. Padmé tried to ignore it. The last thing they needed was their secret relationship being discovered. Then again, she was fairly certain Obi-Wan already knew to some degree.

"What were you doing exactly ten rotations ago?" The droid bleeped, it's robotic eyes lighting up. Padmé paused to think, a small crinkle forming between her brows. The last thirteen rotations were a complete mystery to her. Her nerves began fraying. If this was an official interrogation, then she should tell them the truth. The absolute truth. Then again, she had no doubt Anakin would be enraged that she didn't tell him the first time she had a black out. He would fret about it more than her and more stress was the last thing he needed. She already had confirmation where she was from Bail Organa himself anyway, so she technically wasn't lying. It wasn't a truth she could confirm, but what else could she have possibly been doing aside from carrying out her senatorial duties? Obi-Wan traded a glance over at Anakin, no doubt because of her prolonged silence. All he got in response was a shrug.

"I was on Hoth aiding in negotiations with the Rodian colonists," she answered finally, raising her steady gaze to meet theirs.

Obi-Wan's face contorted into a light hearted frown. "There are Rodian colonists on Hoth?" he asked, his voice hitching slightly.

"That was my initial reaction as well," Padmé chuckled, smoothing out the folds of her dress with her palms. "I didn't think they could survive on a planet so cold."

"A natural assumption," Obi-Wan agreed, lifting a hand to stroke at his beard. 

"Who were you traveling with?" Anakin asked, folding his arms over his chest. Padmé's heart faltered. She had no idea. If she answered them, that would be lying. She had however, already dug herself a hole. Is she suddenly back peddled and told them the truth it would exceptionally suspicious. So, she was just going to have to guess. On missions to negotiate with non-hostile settlements, she would normally work alone. 

"I was by myself," she responded with a sigh. 

"How long were you there for?" The droid bleeped.

"Thirteen rotations," she answered with zero hesitation. The Jedi glanced over at each other. Obi-Wan placed his hands on his hips. A wrinkle formed on his forehead.

"It took you thirteen rotations to negotiate with colonists on a planet like Hoth?" Anakin asked, surprise echoed in his voice. Indeed, it was a very long time to spend working with Rodians she was assuming were peaceful. She knew it would normally only take her a few days to complete such a mission, but she also knew working with people could make her job very unpredictable. The mysterious injury on her stomach was a great testament to that.

"You'd be surprised how much can go wrong in a peaceful negotiation," Padmé responded sharply, clasping her hands over her stomach.

"Believe me, we know," Obi-Wan let out a humourless laugh. "Thank you for your time," he hummed, dipping his head towards her. Padmé sent him a warm smile in response. 

"Now that we've collected all the alibis, I will verify them," the droid turned its boxy head up towards Kenobi.

"How long will that take?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I will have the results by midrotation tomorrow," the droid responded, before turning on its tiny feet and waddling away.

"I guess we both have the morning off then," Obi-Wan chuffed and folded his arms into his cloak. The pair of Jedi watched the door slide shut after the droid.

"I take it you need something more?" Padmé sat forwards and leaning her elbows on her desk, cocking her head to one side. The Jedis' faces were stoic when they turned back towards her. The muscles in her stomach tightened. It certainly did not look like they had anything good to tell her.

"This investigation is top secret Padmé," Obi-Wan told her gravely. "I must have your word that what we are about to tell you will not leave this room." Padmé's brows tugged downwards. If they waited until the droid left, this wasn't something she was supposed to know. This was something that needed to remain off record.

"You have my word," she promised them faithfully.

"We have discovered that the new Sith who has sided with the Separatist is actually a popular senator," Anakin informed her, a dark anger creeping into his voice. Padmé's mouth fell open and her eyes nearly bulged from her head. This whole interrogation was to find out if she was a Sith? No wonder Anakin had called it a formality. In terms of the senate, there were plenty of members that sided secretly with the Separatists. It was startling that a sith could pose as a senator successfully, but the betrayal didn't surprise her.

"We would appreciate it if you could do some investigating yourself and report back to us on anything that is...more suspicious than normal," Obi-Wan spoke gently.

"Carefully, of course," Anakin added, his gaze darkening.

"I'll do my best," she nodded. After trading a few goodbyes, the Jedi exited the office and left her to return to her junkplanet of work.

*

Even before she was about to sleep, she was still reading through a holopad. She sat haunched over at the top of the bed with her back pressed against the headboard. The room was lit by the yellowed light on her bedside table and the blinds were drawn down tightly. The cream sheets below her were laid out perfectly, only crinkled beneath her weight. Her eyes ached and her mind felt like it was spinning in circles. 

Catching her by surprise, Anakin trudged through the door. Padmé's head lifted towards him. Even although he was still wearing his dark Jedi robes, it was progress. The day before she hadn't even been able to get him into the bedroom. His shoulders were sagging and his head slightly dipped. He slumped down on the end of the bed, his back facing her. For the first time in a long time, she found herself at a loss for words she could say to him. "Are you alright?" she asked the first thing that popped into her mind.

"No," he whispered so softly she wasn't sure she had heard him. Placing her data pad on the bedside table, she sat forwards. Her heart leapt into her mouth. "I've been having really bad dreams about you lately," he spoke gruffly, his shoulders began to shake. "Violent ones." Padmé bit down on her lip. That explained why he was so reluctant to go to sleep. "In the dream I'm crushing you beneath a rock as you are begging me to stop, but I'm just so angry that your struggling makes me even more annoyed. There's blood everywhere..." he trailed off, voice trembling. 

"Do I die?" she whispered. It was no wonder he had been so terrified by her lack of communication. If she kept having dreams about hurting him, she would be constantly terrified for him. If he wasn't safe from her, then he wouldn't be safe from anyone.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly.

Padmé crawled forwards, placing her hands on his shoulders. "It's just a dream, Ani," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing her chin atop his head. "The last person in the galaxy who would hurt me like that is you," she spoke honestly. Padmé seen him at his angriest and she'd heard the tales of his aggression, but he'd always been so gentle with her that if she hadn't witnessed it herself she would never have believed it to be true. 

Anakin lifted a hand and gently stroked her forearm. "It's just like the dreams I had about my mother," his voice cracked. Padmé lifted herself off of him and sat back onto the bed. He turned to look at her from over his shoulder, the corners of his lips tugged downwards and his eyes covered in shadows. 

"So, you think it's going to happen?" she asked timidly, a little line forming between her brows.

"No," he growled, his top lip curling upwards. "I could never-" he paused, letting out a sharp exhale. "I will not let it happen, I promise you."

"I know," she sent him a tender smile. Anakin's eyes dropped to the floor. They looked haunted, like he was still caught in the nightmare. Perhaps, in his mind, he was. "Ani, dreams aren't always what they seem." He turned away from her, clenching his hands into tight fists. Padmé began to stroke his back in slow, rhythmical circles. "You should just focus on living one day at a time. Don't let the dreams dominate your mind because they haven't happened and you haven't hurt me." Anakin lifted his eyes to meet her and she saw just how exhausted he really was. He looked like a dead man walking. Not much more and he was going to break down. Scooting back on the bed, she patted the empty space he normally lay in. "Come here," she beckoned him softly.

Anakin's frown deepened. "Padmé, I really don't think I shou-" he began.

"Just lie with me," she cut him off, reaching both arms out towards him and pouting. The one thing he needed the most was sleep, even if it was going to be troubled. Padmé had feeling he'd be unconscious within minutes of lying down.

"Alright," he sighed, standing up and kicking off his shoes. As he clambered onto the bed, she lay down onto her back. Placing a hand over her stomach, he began to lower himself down beside her. The sudden pressure caused a bolt of pain to erupt across her abdomen. A pained wheeze escaped her lips and her body twitched to curl in on itself. Anakin immediately yanked his hand back, freezing as he hovered over her. Horrified eyes stared down at her. He looked like he'd kicked a baby.

"Negotiations with the Rodians got a little rough," she told him. It didn't ease his expression in the slightest.

"You shouldn't have gone alone," he told her sternly, his brows pulling together and his body still frozen beside her. Pushing herself up with one arm, she looped the other one around his chest and tugged him down. Although he resisted at first, it took very minimal effort on her part before he crumpled onto the bed beside her.

"I know, I'm sorry," she whispered, turning into her side and cradling his head against her chest. Draping an arm over her waist, he tugged her body close to his and let out a deep sigh. Padmé's eyes fluttered shut. Gently toying with his hair, she curled a few silky strands around her fingers and brushed a stray lock back from his eyes, tucking it smoothly behind his ears. Within minutes, his breathing became shallow and his body completely limp. When she pulled herself from his grasps, he flopped over onto his back. Reaching over herself, her hands found the light switch by the bed and flicked it off. The room was plunged into darkness. Settling down onto her side, she curled into a ball. The whooshing of his breath quickly lulled her into a deep sleep.


	12. Flight Safety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have about ten chapters written and ready to be released, so I thought I’d put out two today. I might start releasing more chapters per day depending on what I manage to write in one night. Who knows 🤷.

Padmé was gently pulled from her sleep by streams of daylight that seeped through the blinds. A heavy arm was draped over her side. She felt a smile perked her lips. Anakin's chest was pressed against her back, his forehead rested between her shoulder blades. They had gotten through the night, as far as she knew, without any nightmares. Closing her eyes over, she settled into his embrace. The whoosh of his breath sent tickles of relaxation to her temples. The warmth of the bed cradled her and she found herself completely unwilling to move.

If she could have, Padmé might have lain there all day, but a sudden thought burst into her mind. She had an appointment at the medical centre for her missing memory. Peeling her eyes open, she peered at the time piece that sat on the bedside. Her heart leapt into her mouth. It was already significantly later in the day than she had intended to wake up. Whilst speaking with Anakin the night before, she must have forgotten to set her alarm.

Carefully sliding out of his grip, she sat up on the edge of the bed and dangled her feet down to the ground. Rubbing her eyes, she pushed herself to a stand and began quietly scampering around the room to collect her clothes. The last thing she wanted to do was wake Anakin up, he needed every second of sleep he could get, but she found herself pausing to look at him for a moment. The dark Jedi robes stood out as a stark contrast to the cream bedcovers. His face was expressionless, but incredibly peaceful. A few strands of his hair had fallen in front of his forehead. It made her heart swell with joy to see him so calm, even if he wasn't conscious. Without any further delay, she zoomed into the refresher to prepare for her day.

*

The noise of a repetitive beep dragged Anakin from his slumber. Something was buzzing on his wrist. Blinking his eyes open, he automatically pulled his wrist up to his mouth. Squinting against the burning light, he pressed down on the flashing light on his com. "Hello?" He croaked, voice straining in protest. Peering around, he quickly realised he was lying in bed but was still fully clothed in his Jedi robes. Strands of memory drifted back to him from the night before. 

"It's Obi-Wan, where are you?" he sounded mildly annoyed. "I've been trying to get in touch with you for hours," he grumbled. Anakin pushed himself up to his elbows and peered over at Padmé's bedside table. His heart leapt into his mouth. It was already several hours past mid rotation.

"Sorry," he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. "I'll be there soon."

"The quicker, the better. There has been a very startling development in our investigation," Obi-Wan's voice dipped slightly.

Anakin narrowed his eyes. "What?" he asked gruffly.

"It's something that I should tell you in person," Obi-Wan responded sharply. Anakin's heart rate picked up. A shrill note of unease rang steadily within him. "Just get to the senate quickly and meet me in Senator Amidala's office." With that, he severed the communications. Anakin glanced over at Padmé's side of the bed, bitter disappointment twisting his heart when he realised she was completely gone and probably had been for some time. Stretching his arms over his head, pops and cracks raced down his skeleton. Although he felt groggy, the ache of exhaustion was no longer ravaging his body. Combing his fingers through his hair, he steadily rose to his feet and let out a loud yawn. He was shocked he managed to sleep through the whole night. Perhaps he was so sleep deprived his mind simply hadn't been able to conjure up any nightmares.

Not much later, he found himself striding into Padmé's office. The spring in his step halted when he registered the scene before him. A small number of investigation droids were milling about the room, scanning and scouring every nook and cranny. Padmé's sweet smell lingered in the air. A flicker of annoyance, accompanied by a bubble of confusion swirled around in his mind. Padmé herself, was nowhere to be seen. Obi-Wan was standing beside her desk, speaking in soft tones to the small investigation droid they had been working with. Lifting his eyes to meet Anakin, his lips were pressed into a thin line.

Anakin wandered over to them, his head cocking in different directions as he peered at the droids. "What's going on?" he asked Obi-Wan, drawing to a stop before him. The Jedi master let out a deep sigh, pained eyes rested on his former padawan. 

"It turns out there are no Rodian colonists on Hoth," he explained slowly, running a hand down his beard. Anakin's jaw went slack and his brows tugged down into a frown. Bail Organa had said the same thing. Did she lie to him? Did Padmé lie throughout the whole interrogation? Why would she lie? Especially to him. "Whilst I was unable to reach you, I did some digging. It turns out Senator Amidala was also off world the first time we ran into Malice as well."

"What are you trying to say," Anakin hissed, leaning forwards and narrowing his eyes. Anger boiled in his chest. How could Obi-Wan suggest something so ludicrous? Padmé was the most reliable senator they knew. 

"Senator Amidala is a very well known politician," Obi-Wan folded his arms into his sleeves, but he looked as though even speaking that sentence was wounding him deeply. So it should. "I would recon she is famous enough to even get recognised by intergalactic pirates."

Anakin took a step towards Obi-Wan, clenching his hands into fists. "Don't be ridiculous. The senator is no more likely to be a Sith assassin than we are," he gestured vehemently between them. 

"I know," Obi-Wan agreed with a sigh. "But she is the only lead we have and it would be careless of us not to follow through."

"No. There is no lead," Anakin snapped, slashing at the air with his hands. "Where is she?"

"We don't know, she took the morning off for personal leave and hasn’t returned yet," Obi-Wan responded, his jaw tightened as he stared at his former padawan. "We've already put out a warrant for her arrest. The clones are searching for her now." Anakin lurched backwards, his mouth hanging open. Arrest? That was extreme. Before he could respond, Obi-Wan continued, "don't let your emotions blind you. The sooner we bring her in, the sooner we can clear her name."

Anakin bit down on the fiery rage that roared inside of him. This was all ridiculous, but Obi-Wan had a point. As much as he wanted to, they couldn't skip all protocol just because it was someone they trusted. That wasn't good practice. He didn't need to worry anyway, because he knew without a shadow of a doubt Padmé would be able to deflect all the allegations against her by the end of the day.

A sudden presence in the dark side burst to life, not too far away. Anakin and Obi-Wan's heads simultaneously snapped towards the large windows. The Jedi slowly turned back to face one another, their expressions grim. This was a presence they had come to know well. Malice.

*

Padmé could feel the wind whipping against her face as she zoomed through Coruscant's skyline. It batted around her hair like kiterz with a toy. The intense sun beat down on her back. The loud noise of heavy motor traffic thundered in her ears. Hundreds of speeders were pouring all across the city in distinct flows and lanes. The stream of traffic she was traveling in was fast moving, but not fast enough her her liking. Her speeder bike purred as she weaved through other vehicles. She was late for work. The medical appointment had taken much longer than she anticipated. The droid attending to her had been absolutely fascinated by her memory loss and deemed it enigmatic. She was due to return soon for testing. 

Sighing as she overtook another speeder, she realised she was going to have to tell Anakin what was happening at some point. It seemed like he was going to be on Coruscant for a while so he would surely notice if she kept sneaking away to medical appointments. Not to mention, he would be very aware if she ended up forgetting conversations they had because of a blackout. Most of all however, it wasn't fair to keep him in the dark. He had been honest about his nightmares, so it was only right she told him about her memory lapses. It had really concerned her when he wouldn't speak about his issue, she couldn't do the same to him.

Flashing lights and a blaring noise made her jump slightly. A law enforcement droid pulled up beside her on a black and white speeder bike, matching her manic speed. Red and blue lights flashed on the front of his vehicle. Padmé's gut sank. The last thing she needed was to get pulled over for speeding. "Senator Amidala, please pull over. You are under arrest."

Padmé's brows shot up as peered at the droid. The wind still whipped violently in her robes. "For speeding?" She squeaked over the noise.

"No, on the orders of the Jedi," The officer explained, shouting just to be heard. Padmé's heart faltered in her chest. Either she had done something to really annoy Anakin, or they had found a loophole in her story from their interrogation. From the amount of knowledge she lacked on her time spent off world, it was entirely possible she had said something untrue by accident. Before she could respond, the officer pointed a mechanical arm in front of her. "Ma'am, watch out!"

Padmé's head whipped around just in time to see the front end of her bike ramming into the back thrusters of a speeder. There was no time to react before she was flung forwards. Her whole body folded with the motion. A huge boom erupted around her and a flash of light crossed her vision. A wall of heat rammed into her, blasting her off to one side. When Padmé finally collected her senses, she quickly realised she was falling. The towering buildings became dark streaks in the corners of her vision. Flattening her body out, her clothes flapped violently around her. Her gut shifted inside of her and heart began hammering in her chest. There was a stream of speeders rushing through the air below her. If she was hit by one of them, she would be dead in seconds. Angling her body, she managed to shift her flight path just enough to avoid the thundering traffic. The distant ground was growing closer and closer. From what she could see, she was falling into a dingy, dark alleyway that only contained a few people. 

Once again she was forced to weave through the air to avoid another set of speeders. Never before had her heart beat so fast. A sickening realisation dawned upon her. She was about to die. The ground was becoming terrifyingly close. A panicked shout escaped her lips. The feeling slipped from her body and she felt like she was floating in a haze. Her consciousness switched as a darkness crept into her mind.

Malice sprung to awareness. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the fast approaching ground. She had seconds before impact. Hauling all the power from the force she could, she rapidly slowed her decent. By the time she landed, she had nearly slowed herself to a complete stop and swung her body round to land delicately on her feet. Glancing around to reorient her spinning mind, she saw an old, goat-like man in ragged clothing staring at her with wide eyes from within a grimy doorway. Curling her lip, she reached a hand out an snapped his head to one side. 

The sound of enforcement droid sirens roared above her. Malice growled beneath her breath and peered up into the air. A blue and red, flashing vehicle was descending fast towards her. Wasting no time, she broke out into a sprint and ducked into a nearby alley way. Muck and filth covered the ground and walls. The buildings stretched high above her, making the alley almost completely pitch black. Creeping further in, she wrinkled her nose at the repugnant, rotting smell. The impractical dress Padmé had put on swooshed around her feet. The damp floors splashed with every step she took. Colourful, washed out rubbish was scattered all over the place. The sirens slowly became quieter and quieter.

Confusion thrashed around inside of her like a fish on land. If Malice was to guess she would assume she was on Coruscant, if the looming buildings and impossible amounts of traffic were anything to go by. Especially considering the overwhelming amount of life that buzzed all over such a lifeless planet. What she didn't understand was why Padmé had been falling. She didn't know if that Enforcer droid had been after her either. Worst of all, she had no idea how she was in control of the body. 

Malice became acutely aware of a dark presence that was flapping around the corners of her mind. Halting in her tracks, she peered up in the direction it was coming from. It was Sidious. She could feel him desperately tugging at Padmé, who was lodged deep within the recesses of her mind. Malice stiffened and waited to loose control, but it never happened. Sidious was unable to shift her consciousness, it felt like his connection to her was too weak. He was too far away. A bright delight began burning within her. Never before had this happened. He had always been able to shift whoever he wanted to consciousness from the other end of the galaxy. In fact, his stink wasn't lodged in her mind anymore. The switch between the two woman must have happened completely organically in Padmé's panic whilst she was falling.

A wolffish grin split her lips. If he couldn't switch her from afar, then there was nothing to stop her from hunting down and slaughtering all of his little pawns in his game of war. The thought made delight prickle her skin. A few burning, light presences had shifted their attention to her. Two she recognised as Kenobi and Skywalker, the others she had no clue. They were however, strong enough to concern her. Tugging on the dark side, she pulled a veil over her force signature. They wouldn't be able to find or feel her any longer.


	13. Griefous

Anakin could feel worry stewing his guts. Obi-Wan and him were standing around a large, circular holoprojector. Mace Windu and Yoda stood opposite them. They had just been sent a holo of a reported sighting of Senator Amidala. The small room was lit only by the vibrant, blue holo of Padmé on a speeder bike. The audio was staticky and he had to strain to hear the conversation as an enforcement droid pulled up beside her. The exchange between them was short and because she had turned her eyes off the traffic to speak to the droid, she ended up crashing head on into a speeder. Anakin lurched forwards, his heart leapt to his throat as he watched her getting thrown from the bike and into the air moments before the two vehicles imploded. Cold shock made his jaw slack. Sheer terror pulsed aggressively within him. She vanished from the holo.

"Oh no," Obi-Wan mumbled, his eyes flicking over towards Anakin. Still, the holo kept running and slowly expanded its range. Tense silence rang out. Only the wailing of the enforcement siren as it plummeted after her could be heard. Anakin nearly closed his eyes for fear of what he might see. His heart thundered so hard it rocked his entire frame. When the holo finally did reach the ground, a storm of emotions mixed within him. A cool rush of cold relief collided with a hot uprising of confusion, forming a tornado in his mind. There Padmé was, standing perfectly fine and peering up at the approaching droid.

"How did she survive a fall like that?" Mace's voice hitch as he zoomed the holo in on her with a flick of his hands. The senator's face was pulled into a deeply confused frown. It appeared as though even she had no idea how she survived. In the blink of an eye she sped out of the holo's range and it dissolved into thin air.

"A fall like that, only someone strong in the force could survive," Yoda hummed, clasping his hands over the top of his walking stick. 

Anakin straightened up, clenching his jaw tightly. "The senator is very crafty," he argued, but it sounded weak even to his ears. No matter what she'd touched or landed on, she shouldn't have been able to survive that fall. Although he was so grateful she wasn't, he knew she should be dead.

"I have confirmation that the disturbance, the dark presence we felt in the force, occurred at the same time as this holo was taken," Obi-Wan told them, casting an apologetic glance at his former apprentice. Anakin still hadn't quite processed what they were saying. The one thing he knew for certain, was that Padmé wasn't Malice. She couldn't be. That woman didn't have an evil bone in her body.

"If the senator was a Sith, wouldn’t we have all been able to feel it?" Anakin asked with a flinty voice, crossing his arms even tighter over his chest. Mace's brows pulled together and jutted a jaw to one side in thought. Yoda was watching them all with gentle, wise eyes.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard down and let out a heavy sigh. "Have you ever been able to sense the senator's presence Anakin?" he asked, cocking a brow. All he got in response was an intense scowl. "I know I haven't. So how could we have been able to discern her connection to the force?" This was ridiculous. If he had been able to find a way around the defences she probably didn't even know she had, he was certain he would have felt nothing but light and pure goodness.

"The senator isn't a Sith," he hissed, clenching his hands into tight fists. "This is exactly what happened with Ahsoka." At that, Obi-Wan's eyes widened a fraction. It was the jedi council's willingness to place blame when they didn't have the full story that drove Anakin's former padawan from the order and he would not soon forget it.

"Convicted her guilty, we have not," Yoda hummed, peering up at him with owlish eyes.

"Don't let your emotions control you Skywalker," Mace reprimanded him and leaned down onto the holoprojector. "If you are too connected to the senator then we will remove you from the investigation." All eyes fell to him, but he kept his mouth closed. A deep fury boiled within him, and he wanted nothing more to argue his point further, but he also knew Windu's threat was very real. The last thing he wanted was to be taken off Padmé's case.

"Finding the senator, your priority is," Yoda told them, catching Anakin's stern gaze with a much softer one. "If Malice she is, then use her to find Sidious, we will."

*

Malice could still feel the exhilaration of freedom burning in her veins as she crept through the tight confines of an air vent. It was unbearably hot and the powerful hum of an engine rattled around her. Her mask was glued tightly to her face, her lightsabers swung loosely from her hips. Halting over a grate, she peered into the room below. It was a small and nearly pitch black. The only light source was a meagre green glow of a life support unit. In the emerald gloom, she could make out the distinct shape of a hulking, animalistic cyborg that was seated in a tall, metal chair. Long tubes were plugged into his chest and his raspy breath filled the air.

A dangerous smile curled Malice's lips. It had been child's play finding her way onto Grievous's ship. The separatists had yet to change all of their access codes, allowing her to simply dock in their hangar and clamber into the vents. Reaching a hand out, she used the force to delicately push open the grating. She nimbly lowered herself through the gap and dropped silently to the ground before the cyborg creature. His head was slumped forwards, his eyes closed over. Malice's presence was undetectable, her breath silent. Reaching to her belt, she unclipped one of her sabres and ignited a single blade. Crimson light burst into the room, accompanied by an agitated buzzing. Grievous's eyes snapped open. Those slitted pupils of his focused on Malice's face. She swung at him but he shifted just in time so that he blade missed his chest, severing an arm and cutting the tubes connecting him to the life support. 

In a flash, he was on his feet. Malice swung again, but he drew out a sapphire blade with his one remaining arm and blocked her strike. Pushing hard on her lightsaber, he knocked her back a few steps. "Malice... Dooku told me to be wary of you," he snarled. In the now eerie purple lighting of the room, it felt like they were fenced into an arena.

"He was wise to do so," she purred. Grasping her second hilt, she ignited all four of her blood red blades and began spinning them like a windmill. The tubes that had been connected to the monster's chest were spewing a foul smelling liquid all over the floor. Another one of the tubes was draped over the edge of his seat, its bare wire sparking aggressively. Jabbing at Grievous, she stepped around him as he batted off her strike and leapt up onto his unoccupied throne. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the sparking wire down onto the wet floor. The cyborg had no time to react before he was shouting in pain. Electricity sparked up and down the length of his body. Whilst he was frozen rigid by the current pouring through him, she whipped her blade around a lopped his head clean from his shoulders. It landed on the ground with a satisfying clunk. His gargantuan body stood for a few agonised moments until it too crumbled into a heap. 

The noise of automated droid voices caught her attention. They were shouting in the corridor just beyond the very room she was in. Gritting her teeth, she summoned Grievous's head to her hands and back up into the ventilation shaft, wedging the grate shut behind her. The room’s door whooshed open and several droids came pouring in. Malice wasted no time clambering back through the vents towards the hangar.


	14. Connection Plans

Sheev Palpatine was not a man who felt fear very often. As a result, he often struggled to recognise the fickle emotion whenever snuck its way into his mind. Sitting at his desk, he rested his chin against his clasped hands. The yellowed lights from above made his windows a glaring mess. His office was always deadly quiet in the night, giving him a prime opportunity to think. Cold dread was coursing through his veins. Malice was set loose on the galaxy and he had no idea what she was going to do. Her revealing him to be the Sith Master didn't worry him much, the Jedi would laugh off that allegation from such an unreliable source. What concerned him was the havoc she could wreck all over the war effort. The assassin could do all kinds of damage to his plans, just like when Maul resurfaced and threw a spanner in the works. Not that it mattered, he would eliminate her the moment she appeared.

Sidious had no idea how she was able to seize control without being guided by him. The only theory he had was that the restraints in her mind were loosening off. Gritting his teeth, he berated himself for not paying closer attention to Malice. He should never have let the demon out. The thick walls around Padmé's mind he put in place had been doing an expert job of concealing the evil within. Originally he'd lifted them because he had no other choice. Malice was his last hope for keeping the Separatists in control of Trongo, and she hadn't disappointed. He shouldn't have gotten so enthused by her success and obedience. It was risky to slacken his control over her and now he had lost Senator Amidala, a key piece in his plan for domination. 

Anger burned within him. He could almost hear the phantom voice of his dead master reprimanding him for being foolish with his creation. Leaning back into his chair, he let out a long and weary sigh. A loud beep caught his attention. A small communicator on his desk was flashing. Reaching a knobbly finger out, he accepted the transmission. A blue hologram flickered to life in front of his eyes. Sidious narrowed his eyes. It was Malice. She too was seated and her masked head was glaring down at him. "How did you get control?" he hissed, clasping his hands together.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she purred, igniting a furnace within him. 

"What do you want," he growled, the bridge of his nose wrinkling.

"Nothing," she chirped with false cheer. Reaching out of the holo, she pulled a large object into her lap. Sidious's eyes widened a fraction when he realised what she was holding. It was the severed head of general Grievous, Dooku's pet. His anger twisted out of control, but he soothed himself by repeating that the count was still alive and he was one of the only pawns that mattered for the success of the war. "I just thought you might like to know that one of your comrades has fallen in the field of battle," she added, her mechanically enhanced voice grated on his already raw nerves. Lifting the head up, she stroked its arching curve. 

"You have me terribly frightened," Sidious replied in an intensely sardonic tone, placing a hand over his heart. A plot was forming in his mind. Just a few words could push her in the direction he needed. "It's a shame you chose to take out the weakest and most useless of my subordinates," he chuckled dryly, leaning back into his chair. 

"That's just a start Sidious," Malice laughed and continued stroking the severed head. "I'm going to knock every one of your pieces from the board and then I'm going to make sure you suffer a prolonged and agonising death until your body is nothing more than a rotting corpse and your mind a scrambled mess," She snarled the last few words aggressively.

A petty smile curved his lips. "How creative, my dear," he shifted slightly in his seat. "I'm sure my master, Plagueis, would have been proud."

"Don't mention that scum to me," she snapped, almost imperceptibly stiffening. The smile on his face widened substantially. 

"Hit a nerve, did I?" he feigned ignorance.

Malice scoffed beneath her breath. "Just be ready to watch your world crumble, apprentice," She goaded him. A burst of rage consumed him and a snarl rumbled through his chest. Before he could respond, she cut off the transmission and the holo dissolved into the air. Sidious was an apprentice no longer. He had overthrown Plagueis years ago and become the rightful sith master. There was none stronger in the darkside than he. A tenseness wracked his body. 

Reaching out to the communicator, he punched in a few buttons. A few moments of silence ticked by until a different blue hologram appeared over the small device. It showed an older man with impeccable posture and white hair. "Master, you called?" Dooku dipped his head ever so slightly.

"Yes, I thought you might like to know your little robot friend Grievous has perished," Sidious leaned forward onto the desk, propping himself up with his elbows. Dooku's brows shot upwards and his shoulders stiffened.

"By which Jedi was he slain?" Dooku asked, his deep voice rumbled with mild shock.

"Not a Jedi," Sidious responded sharply. "Malice." Dooku's eye's darkened. From the very beginning, Sidious had known his apprentice didn't trust Malice and rightfully so. "You will be her next target," he told the Sith. It had taken very minimal manipulation on his part to force her into feeling like the next person she killed would have to be stronger than Grievous in order to scare Sidious like she wanted. The only one stronger than the cyborg was Dooku. The apprentice's eyebrows pulled together slightly. "I want you to disappear from the battle field and spread rumours about being in Coruscant."

*

Anakin found himself sitting against one of the hulking tree trunks, deep within the heart of the Jedi meditation gardens. A fake, blue sky sparkled above him. A warm breeze toyed with his hair. Beautiful plant life and greenery thrived all around him. Birdsong twittered in the air. Tall bushes secluded him in a small grove of long grasses. No other Jedi were in sight. 

It had been fifteen rotations since Padmé's speeder crash and she still hadn't made an appearance. Recently, he'd been revisiting his habit of sleepless nights. The dreams with the bloody handprint were a lot less prevalent and felt more like nightmare than a vision, but he'd been tormented late into the night because of his worry for her. Although he was certain Padmé couldn't be Malice, the longer she stayed away, the more Obi-Wan was leaning towards that conclusion. It was driving him insane, to see the whole jedi council slowly turning against her. For all they knew she could be dead in an alley somewhere. Anakin had to thrust that thought from his mind because of the way his chest became dangerously tight. She was alive, that much he knew, and she was out there somewhere. Still, unease swirled within him. There were reports of Malice being sighted all across the galaxy, which further added fuel to the arguments for Padmé being a Sith. 

To make matters worse, there was rumours spreading like wildfire all across Coruscant that Dooku was somewhere in the abandoned level. The Jedi were strained to their limit as patrols of the lower levels intensified and small locator bots were buzzing through the city. If Dooku did make an appearance, those bots would find him. 

Letting out a deep sigh, he closed his eyes over and forced all thoughts from his mind. Perhaps meditating on Padmé's location would provide him a little more clarity. It didn't take long for the soothing presence of the light-side to wash his senses in gentle serenity. Focusing only on the thought of his wife, he remained perfectly still and listened intently to the sound of his whooshing breath. The frayed nerves of his mind were laid flat. He felt his consciousness drifting off to a black spot in the force. A terrifying, repugnant force. Trusting in the light-side, he delved into the darkness. It's attention shifted to him. This was a presence he had come to know well, but why the force was connecting them, he didn't understand. 

It was Malice. The evil within her made him feel nauseous to his core. Snippets of her surroundings flickered into his mind. The smell of oil, the deep purr of hyperspace, the sight of blue light streaking past a viewport, the feeling of a tight mask pressing against his face. Never before had he connected with someone so clearly, so completely. "Don't you know it's rude to spy, Skywalker," an airy, ethereal but heavily mechanical voice drifted through him mind.

"Believe me, it wasn't intentional," he grunted back, his own voice echoing around him.

"How have we connected so strongly?" she asked and he could feel her confusion as if it was an addition to his own. Indeed it was strange. The only people he had been able to sense from so far away were Ahsoka and Obi-Wan, but he had a strong bond with them. Perhaps the only other person he was close enough to, that would allow him to make a connection like this, was Padmé. The very thought chilled him to the bone. It couldn't be. It was just a freak accident.

"How should I know?" he responded sharply. 

"You are the one that instigated it!" she snapped back, annoyance rising sharply within her. "I guess that you've just proved the Jedi are clueless fools." He could sense there was a lot more meaning behind those words than he wanted to delve into. Anakin felt his own anger rising to meet hers. She had no idea what she was talking about.

"Tell me Malice, how is that stomach of yours?" he sneered, the vivid memory of her scream as he plunged his knee into her, clearly already damaged, abdomen sprang to mind. Although he had taken no joy from the exchange, it had been satisfying to see her suffer after she had made those children watch as she murdered their father. "I hope it didn't heal too well." Another memory flashed across his mind's eye. The last night he'd spent with Padmé, he'd leant on her stomach and clearly hurt her. A cold feeling washed over him. 

Malice barked a laugh. "It's in perfect condition," she replied, but he somewhat doubted that. He'd felt her ribs crunching beneath him. That wasn't the sort of damage that could be mended in a few weeks. "How's the hand? Fixed yet?"

"New and improved," his tone rang with smugness. "Next time we meet, I'll show your neck just how strong my new grip is." 

"Is that a promise?" she taunted him slyly. Anakin's upper lip curled and deep wrinkles formed over the bridge of his nose. His disgust drew out another laugh from her. It was clear his discomfort and hatred was great entertainment to her. Surely, that could never be Padmé? 

"You're Sith snake," he hissed, his face pulling into a tight frown. "You'll pay for the people you've hurt. I'll make you. Right after I expose who you really are to the galaxy."

"But You already know who I am. A Sith snake," she growled, her voice devoid of its prior playfulness. 

"So being a senator is just a front," he jeered. "What about all the people in your life that trust you? Are they nothing but pawns?" His mind shifted to the relationship he had with Padmé. There was no way their affections were fake. One of the few emotions that occasionally leaked past her walls was love. For him. For them. For what they shared. 

"Their involvement can't be helped," She hummed thoughtfully. He could sense unease swirling within her. 

"That's heartless," he snapped, but he should have known better. The Sith were evil, through and through. The only relationships they ever made were for personal gain. "You've twisted your way into their lives and when they find out what you really are you're going to leave them hurt in a way they'll never recover from." His own emotions were rising steadily within him. "I suppose that thought makes you happy?" Malice however, he no traces of amusement in her force presence. It felt a lot more like she was mildly disturbed. 

"I don't care how they feel," she retorted dryly. “But you Jedi be there to give them some life changing advice like... take things day by day, and I’m sure it’ll be all better,” her voice was sarcastically cruel. Anakin's gut sank to the floor and he went completely ridged. Taking things day by day. That was the exact advice Padmé had given him about his visions of the future. 

"Are you Padmé?" The question tumbled from his lips before he could zip them shut. Malice went completely silent and he could feel the panic that rose within her so clearly that it prickled his insides. 

"I am not the senator, no," she mumbled in response, annoyance lingered behind every word. The force whispered that she was telling the truth, but not all of it. There was something she wasn't telling him. Burning rage flared within her, startling him slightly.

"Do you know where she is?" his voice morphed into a horrific snarl. 

"No." A lie.

"I swear, if you've hurt her-"

"I've never even met the senator," Malice yelled, the assertion in her voice threw off his guard. "You are a lot more dangerous to her than I ever will be." She spoke with an honesty so sharp it completely stole the breath from his lungs. In a split second, she severed the connection and sent him crashing back into his body.

Anakin's eyes snapped open. The sith's dark presence had vanished from within him. A mix of unbearably hot emotions roiled in his gut. Staring down at his black gauntlet, a fine tremble claimed his body. Hissing out an angry breath, he reached up and grabbed handfuls of his hair on either side of his head. He assured himself Malice had no idea what she was talking about. He wouldn't hurt her. Never. Yet her words left aching gouges on his soul. The screams that had haunted his nightmares for so long were deafening in his ears. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried desperately to drag his mind elsewhere but he couldn't stop envisioning Padmé behind Malice's mask with an eerie, fanged grin. 

No, there was no way Padmé was that Sith. It wasn't possible. Dropping his hands down, he clenched his teeth tightly. It was evident Malice knew where his wife really was. So he was going to hunt her down and make her tell him the truth, even if he had to break every bone in her body.


	15. Hollow Reins

Malice stalked over the top of a tall building. Pasty, yellow street lights were the only thing that illuminated the city around her. A mouldy musk itched at her nose and throat. The sky was blocked out by a huge, metallic ceiling. Hundreds of floors of the city stretched for miles above her head, just like the floors on a skyscraper. She was deep within the heart of Coruscant. Litter and rubble was scattered in every alleyway and blocked off every street. As far as she could sense, there was nothing living on this level. Warm, moist air lingered all around. Malice was glad for her mask. It stopped the grubby, thick air from touching her skin.

All the buildings were crumbling and falling apart. The metallic casing of some structures had broken away, revealing their rusting skeletons within. There were rumours that Dooku had set up a base in the bowels of this abandoned city. Seeing it's tattered state around her, she could see why. It was nearly as old and decrepit as he was. A smile curved her lips as she peered over the edge of the roof she stood atop. Large cracks ran the length of its surface and it towered above the many other buildings all around her, granting her a wide view of the city. 

There was no doubt Jedi scouts down here. They will have heard the Dooku rumours no doubt. Malice was going to have to be on her guard. She'd already had to sneak by their observation droids. To her, they looked like metallic floating eyeballs of doom. If they caught sight of her, there would no doubt be Jedi on her tail within minutes.

Thinking of Jedi, her mind drifted to Skywalker and the conversation they had. It was very clear that Padmé's love for him was not unrequited as Malice had once thought it was. The stark realisation that her body had probably experienced intimate contact with a Jedi made her nauseous. Her skin crawled and she felt defiled. At least she hadn't been conscious for it. That would have been a scar that wouldn't have faded. Taunting him and whipping him to a rage however, had been very entertaining. How he'd been able to tell she was Padmé was beyond her, but it seemed she'd thrown him off her trail. The thought of his devastation upon discovering Malice was walking around in the body of the woman he loved left a cold haze around her heart. She cursed how soft Padmé's attachments were making her. That fool had accused her of hurting the senator when he had no idea what he was talking about.

A familiar darkness crept into the air around her, making her go ridged. Peering around herself, she plucked two lightsaber hilts from her belt and held them in front of her body, but kept them sheathed. The force whispered danger. The hairs on the back of her neck stood tall. The city was still a lifeless wasteland around her. Creeping across the roof, it groaned beneath her. Malice delicately placed each foot down, watching where she stepped with wide eyes. Too much pressure and the ground would cave. When she reached the other side, she leaned over the edge and scanned the buildings. Nothing, there was nothing.

A delicate patter behind her made her whip around. A cloaked man stood before her, his pale hooked nose poked out from beneath his dark hood. Malice's heart skipped a beat. Sidious. Before she could jump away from him, he reached out a hand and used the force to grip onto Padmé's mind which was buried under layers of unconsciousness. A strained wheeze escaped her lips. She had known it was risky to come to Coruscant with Palpatine lurking around the upper level, but the abandoned city was so close to the core she assumed he wouldn't be able to detect her. Unless she was right, and this had all been a trap. Rage boiled within herself at herself. She should have known. "Malice, I thought you were trained better than this," Sidious hissed, creeped close towards her and made her step back towards the sharp roof's edge. 

The Sith master tugged mercilessly at Padmé's mind in a mad bid to pull her into control. Malice strained against him, every muscle in her body tensed and she dropped her sabres to the ground. If she lost focus for one second, she would be buried in the light presence of the other woman that shared her body. It felt like fending off a charging Nexu. He was vicious, brutal and fast. They engaged in a gruelling battle of wills. Time dragged on for what felt like hours as she desperately fought to remain in control. Beads of sweat formed on her brow. Sidious hissed between his teeth, his hand lingering in front of her face. 

There was a loud shout close by and sudden crash beside her shook her concentration. Sidious yanked Padmé’s mind forwards. A loud cracking noise was followed by the ground crumbling away beneath her feet. Before Malice knew it, they were falling at a terrifying rate. The consciousness was slipping between her fingers like water through a strainer. Padmé was coming to, her confusing whisking their senses. The world was spinning, her gut flipping. All feeling grew dull. With what little control she had left, she drew on the dark side. With expert control, she slowed herself down so that by the time her body touched the ground, she hit with the impact of a feather, not a brick. She was vaguely aware of a dark shape hurtling down towards her and a stab of pain in her chest, but she was too far gone to do anything about it. Padmé seized the reins.

*

Anakin raced over the crumbling roof tops of the abandoned city. His eyes strained to scan his surroundings through the suffocating gloom. Obi-Wan was keeping pace with him perfectly. They had received word that an seeker droid had caught sight of Malice deep within the heart of the city. They flipped effortlessly over the cluttered alleyways below. His peripheral vision became nothing more than streaks of colour. Reaching out with the force, he locked on to the dark stain in the force he knew to be Malice. Unrelenting anger fuelled his urgency. His heart thumped fiercely in his chest.

As they drew closer to her, Anakin could pick out her distinctive shape atop a skyscraper not too far away. Another, cloaked figure was standing haunched in front of her with a hand hovering in front of her face. He halted at the edge of the rooftop he was on. It was a high jump to get to where she was, and he found himself craning his neck up to see them. "Who is that with her?" Obi-Wan ground to a halt beside them. Reaching out with the force, he could feel nothing but black-hearted evil from the hooded man. It sickened him. Malice, on the other hand, felt strange. It was like her dark influence was slipping out from underneath her.

"Let's find out," he puffed. Taking a few long strides back, he crouched lower to the ground. Obi-Wan turned to look at him with wide eyes.

"Wait, Anakin, something isn't righ-" the master hadn't even finished the sentence before Anakin was soaring through the air on a direct path to the roof. When he drew close, the hooded man turned to stare at him but Malice remained completely frozen. Her lightsaber hilts rested on the ground by her feet. The Jedi landed on the roof with a hard thunk.  
The ground cracked beneath him, immediately giving way. He felt himself falling and was plummeting down the empty stomach of the building. The force whispered instructions to him. Reaching his arms out, he managed to grip onto a long, metal beam. His shoulders jolted in their sockets.

Dangling from the rusted metal, he started to pull himself up. A few boulders and chunks of cement came raining down from the roof above, forcing him to duck his head and avoid them. The building around him was an empty shell. The beam he clung to was hanging at an angle from the wall and groaned in protest every time he moved. The huge vacant space around him was lit only by the weak streams of light that seeped in past the cracks in the walls. Every noise echoed around the emptiness. The drop below was long and made his head spin. Clambering ontop of the beam, he squinted up towards the roof above. It wasn't too far away and light seeped in from the hole he had left in his wake. Crouching into a squat, he used the force to launch himself into the air and through the hole.

This time, he landed softly on what remained of the roof. The cloaked man was gone and Obi-Wan was peering over the edge of the building. "Where'd they go?" Anakin asked, throwing his hands into the air and striding towards his old master. The two dark presences had completely vanished.

Obi-Wan turned to face him with a scowl. "In the destruction you created, the cloaked man completely vanished. I have no idea where he went." Anakin felt anger bubbling within him as he came to stand at his friend's side. He shouldn't have been so rash. Now they'd lost the Sith. "Malice, on the other hand..." the Jedi Master returned to staring down at the alley below them. Anakin tracked his gaze, his heart skipping a beat when he saw what Obi-Wan was looking at. Far below them, a tiny black speck poked out from beneath the rubble. Although he couldn't sense Malice's usual evil, he could detect that she was still alive. 

Casting each other a wary glance, they leapt off the side of the building. The wind whipped through Anakin's clothes and his stomach twisted inside of him. The ground raced to meet him. Calling on the force, he rapidly slowed himself down and landed so gently it was as though he had merely taken a step down a staircase. The dark robes he wore settled around him as Obi-Wan landed softly beside him. 

The musky, rotten air was thick. Malice was lying at the side of the alley, atop a mound of rubble that towered above the two Jedi. They began clambering up the mound, standing over her when they reached the top. All they could see of Malice was one arm, the upper portion of her chest and her head. She was unnaturally still. It was one, cement slab that was covering her chest, but it appeared to be angled over her body and not completely crushing it to the ground. The Jedi traded inquisitive stares. Obi-Wan gave him a firm nod. Anakin raised a hand towards her, using the force to lift the slab slightly. Malice's body burst to life, thrashing in her rocky tomb. A horrific, mechanical scream tore from her lungs. Anakin dropped the slab immediately, a deep frown etched into his features.

Obi-Wan pushed past him, towards the Sith who was struggling beneath the rocks. Her arm dipped below the rock, grasping at something they couldn't see. The Jedi master crouched by Malice's head and peered down into the gap between her and the slab. His eyes widened. "Hold it down," he pointed to the rock. "Don't let her move it." Anakin instantly obliged, leaning his weight on the hard slab. Beneath him, he could feel Malice fighting to push it away from herself. A few warped coughs escaped her lips. "It's connected to a scaffolding bar that has gone right through her side. If we take it out, she'll die in minutes." One-Wan told him, gesturing to the rock once again. "The bar is stopping the rock from crushing her, but I fear it's done a lot of damage itself."

"Then why don't we put her out of her misery," he grunted, straining to keep the rock steady. 

Obi-Wan scowled at him, rising back up to his feet. "We need her to find Sidious."

Anakin knew that Malice could be the only one that might tell him how to find Padmé, so he clenched his jaw hard. "Then you'd better call for a medic," he snapped. The older Jedi nodded, jumping down from the rubble and out of sight. 

Glaring at the Sith pinned beneath him, he reached out with his cybernetic hand to grasp at the mask on her face, using the other one to keep her pinned. Malice's one free hand rocketed out from beneath the slab and wrapped tightly around his gauntlet before his fingers could even reach her mask. The grip was incredibly tight, but he wrenched it free. The moment he did, she let out another scream of pain, followed by a prolonged string of wet coughs. Anakin grimaced at the demonic sound. That mask needed to come off her face before his ears bled. Once again he reached a gloved hand towards her face, but went completely ridged before he reached her. There, on the back of his gauntlet, was a scarlet handprint. One that had been haunting him for weeks. His blood ran cold. "No," he whispered, hardly audible. Blinking back his shock, he gritted his teeth. Delicately, he gripped her mask. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. This time she didn't fight him, she was too preoccupied trying to shove the stone slab away. Ever so gently, he flicked the latch on the side of her jaw and pulled it away from her face.

The sound of the mask clattering to the ground barely registered in his mind. Everything delved into slow motion. Shock hollowed him on the inside. His heart stopped beating. It was Padmé. Her face was twisted in pain and her chin coated in a slick sheen of blood. Anakin dropped to his knees beside her with a hard thunk. Her hand grasped at the edge of the rock, shoving it upwards and leaving a long trail of scarlet liquid in its wake. Reacting fast, he slammed both elbows down on the slab, stopping her from moving it. Numbness buzzed underneath his skin. "Padmé?" he whispered in a trembling voice.

Padmé's turned her head towards him. Watery eyes rested on his face. Confusion warped her features. "Anakin?" her voice hissed and bubbled, but it was soft. "W-what happened?" she choked on a cough, blood leaking from the corners of her lips. Every breath she took was accompanied by a wet rasp. This was it. His dream was coming true. Gritting his teeth, he hung his head. Rage began to burn within him. It was an anger so bright it hurt. She was a Sith. She had been lying to him all this time. Playing for the opposite side. Beneath him, she began to struggle again which only fuelled his rage.

"You betrayed the republic," he growled clenching his hands into tight fists and pressing down on concrete slab. No matter how Padmé tried, she couldn't budge it an inch. "You betrayed me."

Anakin didn't need to lift his head to know she was staring at him, but he did. That normally gentle gaze was warped with pain. Deep wrinkles formed all over her forehead, which was beginning to bead with sweat. Her eyes were slightly glazed and unfocused. "What are you talking about?" she coughed, her voice terribly weak and shaky. More blood dribbled down her chin. Her denial only made his anger grow further.

"Was I nothing more than a pawn to you?" he hissed through gritted teeth. "A necessary collateral damage?"

"No, never," her frown deepened as she shook her head. "But I don't know what you're talking about." Any wheezy breath she took was short and pained. Once again his fury skyrocketed. How could she deny the truth when it was laid out in front of them so clearly? Letting out a harsh rush of air, he decided not to pursue the conversation any further. In her current state, she was too disoriented to understand the context of their situation. He'd ask for the truth when she wasn't dying. "Anakin." The urgency with which she said his name caught him off guard. "I-I can't breath," she spluttered, streams of inky blood trailed down her neck. "Please, stop," she spoke as loudly as her strained voice would allow. 

Anakin didn't move, but hearing her begging him just like she had in his dream broke something deep within him. All of the anger he felt simmered down into misery. Despite everything she had done and all the people she'd hurt, his heart broke for her. He wanted desperately to see her survive. If she died without telling him about her motives for being involved with him, he might just break. Hot liquid brimmed his eyes. "I can't let you take it out Padmé," his voice had dropped to a pathetic whisper, but it's still had strict sternness.

Obi-Wan clambered back up the pile of rubble. His jaw clenched when he saw the sight before him. Sadness spoke through his eyes. "Oh dear," he murmured beneath his breath and placed a hand on his former padawan's shoulder.   
Padmé went still and her pained wheezes grew silent. Her trembling hand lay on the edge of the rock. Obi-Wan sat on the ground by her head, haunted eyes stared at her face.

Anakin cast his gaze towards her. She was staring blankly up at the sky above. The colour had drain from her skin, giving her a grey hue. A fresh coating of blood made her chin glimmer. It's metallic pang turned the air bitter. For one horrifically painful moment he thought she might be dead, but the force still hummed around her and those impenetrable walls of hers. More than ever, he found himself cursing them. It made sense why they were so strong. She couldn't have the Jedi knowing she was in tune with the dark side. Knowing she was a murderer. Knowing she was a Sith. In the past he'd often longed to know what she was feeling but now, more than ever, he would give anything to see what she was really like. To see who was really behind her steering wheel. 

Anakin leaned over the rock, placing his head against its cool, grainy surface. He listened intently to the sound of her rattling breaths. "Do you want me to take over?" Obi-Wan whispered gently. There was pain and betrayal laced tightly through his presence. Anakin could sense his master most definitely did not want to be the one keeping the scaffolding lodged in Padmé's chest, but he didn't want to see his former padawan suffering. Unable to muster a response, Anakin shook his head numbly, not lifting it from its place on the rock. Padmé was done fighting them anyway. It seemed she was stuck in the throws of shock. He simply couldn't lift himself away.

Eventually they heard the blaring siren of the medical team. It grew louder with every passing moment. It should have given him more relief to hear it, but it didn't. Any emotion he felt was numb and muted. He felt hollow.


	16. Bacta

The medical wing was eerily silent. It was illuminated by a pale, green light that originated from a tall, cylindrical bacta tank. The only one in in an otherwise barren room. By its base was a large control panel covered in blinking lights. This was one of the few rooms in the Jedi temple that was designed for holding prisoners, thus it had heavy and thick doors that only had a slitted window in. The force was calm and serene. 

Anakin was standing in front of the bacta tank, staring up at the woman floating within. Padmé's hair floated deceptively like a halo around her head. Golden-brown locks shifted and swayed with the motion of the liquid. The white gown she wore hovered inches away from her skin, rippling with every bubble that slid past it. Although she was no longer grey, her features were pale and lifeless. Her body was completely limp and her eyes sealed shut. Long tubes were connected to a mask secured over her mouth and nose. Much nimbler tubing was inserted into her forearms. Each and every one that she was connected to ran out the top of the bacta tank and down into the bulky control panel. She looked so peaceful. It was a stark difference to the pain twisted face, coated in blood that haunted his dreams.

As Anakin gazed at her motionless body, he felt like a helpless child. It had only been a few hours since she'd been submerged in the bacta, but they had been the worst hours of his life. He hadn't heard anything from the doctors yet, but Obi-Wan was speaking with them now. Lifting a hand he placed it on the glass. "Why, Padmé?" he whispered, staring at her face. Part of him wished he could see her eyes. Perhaps he might be able to look inside her and understand why she was so cruel. If she was a Sith all along, was everything they had been through together all an act? Was she using him? Did she even care?

Clenching his jaw, tears brimmed his eyes. How could she? How could she lie to him so easily for years? Padmé's image became a hazy mess. Leaning his head forwards, he placed his forehead against the cold glass. Squeezing his eyes shut, a few tears rolled down his cheeks. All the jokes and tender hugs they shared were nothing. All the short moments they scrambled to find, just to be in each other's company, were fake. They had to be, because if she had really loved him, she wouldn't have led him on. She wouldn't have lied.

Pulling away from the glass, he swiped the wet trails from his cheeks. A fierce scowl warped his features and a snarl curled his lip. Anakin was nothing more than a pawn to her. A means to an end. An unfortunate inevitability. She had said so herself when they had connected with the force. Anger coiled around his chest like a constricting serpent. With every breath, it grew tighter. All the time he thought she loved him back and she'd just been stringing him along like a lost toddler. The realisation that his love had never been returned hit him like a ship travelling at hyper speed, knocking the very breath from his lungs.

Anakin's mind drifted back to all the times they'd spent together, and his anger faltered. He remember the way she would throw herself into his arms every time they reunited in solitude. He remembered the way her eyes would twinkle with delight whenever he told her he loved her. He remembered the way her shoulders would droop and her expression would somber every time he had to leave. It couldn't be fake. It couldn't. Letting out a groan of frustration, he grasped handfuls of his hair. The last night they spent together she'd been so desperate to ease his worry. She'd been hurt when he wouldn't open up to her. She'd been so eager to help him get to sleep. Why would a Sith have cared about his mental wellbeing? If she didn't love him, wouldn't she just have let him spiral out of control. Wouldn't that have benefitted her, having one less Jedi to worry about?

Gritting his teeth, he dropped his hands to his sides. Unless that was all just part of the act. What if she needed something more from him? What if using him meant he needed to be in good condition. Thus, his mind repeated the same cycle it had been stuck in since he saw that bloodied handprint on his gauntlet. Disbelief. Anger. Misery. Repeat.

There was a loud thunking as the door cranked upwards. Anakin turned to look over his shoulder, but he already knew who it was. Illuminated by the light of the corridor beyond, Obi-Wan and Yoda entered the room. "Anakin," Obi-Wan hummed a greeting as the pair steadily approached him. The door lowered itself jerkily to the floor.

"Masters," Anakin dipped his head, stepping to the side of the tank. The two older Jedi stopped in front of the glass, their eyes scanning Padmé's dormant body. 

"I thought we might find you here," Obi-Wan commented, folding his arms into his sleeves. As he stared into the tank, lines crinkled around his eyes. Anakin could feel the pain of betrayal rolling off his master in waves. He could only imagine what a state his force presence felt like. Sighing, he ran a hand down his face.

"Very sorry, I am," Yoda's voice crackled with age as he peered up at Anakin with sorrow filled eyes. "Close to the senator, I know you are." As if he was waiting to be scolded, the young Jedi tensed. Close didn't even begin to describe what he thought they where, but he hardly knew the woman he claimed to love. 

"Will she... survive?" Anakin asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Obi-Wan exhaled loudly through his nose. Anakin's stomach dropped. "The damage due to her being impaled will heal because the scaffolding was very thin, but the doctor is more concerned about an older injury," he explained calmly. "It seems she has sustained repeated damage to her rib cage and abdomen that hadn't healed properly. The scaffolding was pushing against her damaged ribs which in turn made them poke at and injure some of her internal organs." Obi-Wan's weary eyes met his. That explained why she was so desperate to move the slab. A queasy feeling churned in Anakin's stomach. He was the one that held her down as her own body tore itself apart. "At the moment she is still critical, but if she makes it through the night then the doctors are confident she will recover enough to liberated from life support."

A memory sprung to Anakin's mind. Malice pinned beneath him as he dug his knee into her gut. The sickening crunch her body made beneath him. The world spun around him. He felt sick to his stomach. Unbearable guilt came hammering down on him like a speeder with no brakes and the worst part was, he knew it shouldn't. Padmé was a Sith, perhaps he had been excessively violent, but he was just trying to catch the creature that made children watch as she killed their father. He'd just been doing his duty. She, on the other hand, was a lying snake. How could he have know her true nature? 

Yet, a fine trembling rattled his body. It was him that had caused her all this damage. He was the one that shot her ship from the sky, crashing it on Florrum and causing the initial damage. He was the one that made it worse by crushing her already broken body. He was the one that had been too hasty to reach her in the abandoned city, causing the roof to collapse and her to fall. Indirectly, he was also the reason she had been impaled by the scaffolding. For all the promises he made he would never hurt her, he sure had come very close to killing her multiple times. Running his hands down his face, he stifled a groan. 

"If she used the force to land safely, why didn't she just stop the rubble hitting her?" Anakin asked. The slab hadn't been particularly heavy. Even if she hadn't been able to catch it before it hit her, she could have moved out the way.

"I think that have had something to do with the man she was with," Obi-Wan replied. "It felt as though he was using the force pull her mind apart." Now that he mentioned it, Anakin could vaguely remember something of the kind. "I think she was still too disoriented to stop herself from being hit."

"The new man, we decided, Sidious is," Yoda added, clasping his hands over the top of his walking stick. "The description Obi-Wan gave, to me, sounded much like the Sith I encountered." Anakin clenched his jaw and stared up at Padmé's blank face. How could she stand to work for someone so vile? Perhaps she was just as horrid. No, he already knew she was just as horrid. He'd seen how brutal she was when killing clones. It was simply inhumane.

"We haven't yet been able to figure out why they were meeting in the Abandoned City or what they were doing," Obi-Wan ran a hand the length of his beard. "Considering we have never seen Sidious in person before, it can't have been on good terms."

"Aren't they on the same side?" Anakin frowned.

"Dead, General Grievous is, slain by a rumoured red lightsaber wielding Jedi," Yoda shifted his weight. Anakin cocked his head back around to Padmé. What could she have gained from killing Grievous? A sliver of hope acted like a a string holding together the fragments of his crumbling heart. Maybe she wasn't with the Separatists after all.

"Dooku was supposedly in the Abandoned City," Anakin blurted. Drawing on seemingly mismatched pieces information, an idea formed in his head. "Maybe she was down there looking to kill him, but it was a trap set by Sidious we just happened to stumble across," he concluded.

"Possible, it is," Yoda nodded his head. "Had a falling out, the Sith have."

"That's hardly surprising," Obi-Wan chuffed, stroking at his beard once again. 

"Ask her all about it, we will, when awaken, she does," Yoda pressed his wrinkled lips into a thin line.

"Until then, this information needs to remain between us and the council," Obi-Wan sent Anakin a pointed look. Yoda stared up at him with a considerate gaze.

"Of course, master," Anakin agreed, dipping his head towards them. Although he wasn't fond of lying to the Chancellor, he knew telling anyone in the senate came with a great risk of alerting Sidious about how much they knew and more importantly, how much they could learn from Padmé. If word got out of her imprisonment, then surely Sidious would be inclined to cut off his loose end as he probably was trying to in the Abandoned City. Then again, he might already know. It wouldn't take much to realise that no dead body plus the presence of the Jedi probably meant she had been taken into their custody. Casting his eyes to Padmé's floating form, he added, "I have a feeling her life is in great danger beyond the threat of her own body."

"A wise prediction," Yoda dipped his head. "Be wary, we must."


	17. ICU

Anakin and Obi-Wan stood by Padmé's bacta tank. The green light illuminated the sharp angles and smooth curves of their faces. The feint noise of the green liquid bubbling could be heard through the thick glass. Her body was still floating limply and her hair swaying slowly around her head. Obi-Wan stared at her blank features. Deep wrinkles formed around his eyes. "She made it through the night," he hummed, lifting a hand and stroking at his beard. "That's good." Anakin peered over at his former master. There was a pained fondness written all over his face. It looked like he was saying goodbye to a dear friend for the last time. The Jedi needed Padmé to find Sidious, but they both knew that wasn't the only reason they were relieved she lived. 

Anakin shifted on his feet, yawning. His balance was slightly shaky and cold fatigue had crept into his muscles. Although he was happy she lived, heartbreak and betrayal were dampening the triumph. "The doctor said she should be ready for questioning in a week or so," he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. Overnight, he had decided to postpone condemning her and their relationship until after he'd heard her point of view. Even if all she did was spit lies, he just needed to hear her say something.

"We shall have our answers soon," Obi-Wan pulled his hands into the folds of his sleeves. From the corner of his eyes, he peaked over at Anakin. "You were here all night, weren't you?" he asked, his voice rumbling with disapproval. 

"Well, she an easy target that Sidious is gunning for. We can't just leave her unprotected," he argued, a frown cutting his brows. Letting out a long rush of breath, Obi-Wan turned to face his former apprentice. Anakin knew what was coming next. That was the same disappointed face he put on every time the truth of Anakin and Padmé's relationship floated a little too close to the surface.

"No one can get in and out of this temple without us being alerted. There is only a select few that even know she is here," Obi-Wan spoke firmly. "How could you stop someone killing her when you are sleep deprived zombie?"

Anakin glared at the floor. Annoyance swelled in his chest. That was true. He couldn't perform at his best if his battery was drained dry. Although, he did have a sneaky feeling that he wouldn't have been able to sleep even if he had tried. "I'm sorry Master," Anakin mumbled, closing his eyes over. "I just have this terrible feeling something bad is going to happen." That was the truth. Dread had been haunting him since the first moment he saw her in that bacta tank. 

"You are too attached Anakin," Obi-Wan tutted, but reached out and gave Anakin's shoulder a squeeze. "It is perfectly alright to develop feelings for someone, but you must reign them in." The two Jedi's eyes met. "Don't let them control you." Obi-Wan sounded like he was pleading an infant not to cry. 

"I'm in perfect control," Anakin snapped. Obi-Wan drew his hand back and pressed his lips into a thin line. The young Jedi bit down on his tongue before he said anything further. If he protested too much, the Jedi council would be sure to remove him from the case. Letting out a guilty sigh, he cast his eyes over to Padmé. 

Anakin's heart froze in his chest. His body went completely ridged. Padmé's eyes were wide open and staring at him unblinkingly through the glass. Obi-Wan followed his former padawn's startled gaze, gasping when he saw the woman within. "I-is she awake?" Anakin whispered, still rooted to the spot. Her body was still completely still, just her eyes remained open.

"I'm not sure," Obi-Wan murmured, leaning closer. "How curious." That's when she shifted, turning her head towards the Jedi master and blinking. The long locks of her hair trailed behind her head.

"No, definitely awake," Anakin squeaked. 

Obi-Wan rose to his full height. "You stay here and make sure she doesn't escape," he commanded, beginning to back up towards the door. "I'll go find the doctor." He broke into a sprint, raced out of the room and vanished around the corner. Anakin could feel his old master’s familiar presence retreating.

When Anakin returned his gaze to Padmé, he found that she too was staring at him once more. Her eyes were soft and and gentle, crinkled in confusion. Only once had he found himself awake in a bacta tank, and he most certainly couldn't see much beyond the liquid. It was all a hazy mess, nothing more that shapes and figures. Still, her eyes were fixed on his. Goosebumps prickled his skin. Patients weren't supposed to wake up when they were submerged in a bacta solution. They could panic and accidentally drown themselves.

Padmé finally pulled her eyes away and lifted her hands towards her face, brushing her fingers over the mask secured around her nose and mouth. Next, they trailed along the length of the tubes. Her head tilted down towards her body, her hair swayed with every movement. Grasping the edge of the gown that had ridden up to her upper thigh, she tugged it back down towards her knees. Anakin supposed one thing he knew for sure that hadn't changed was her inmate desire to keep all of her clothing pristine. Even though her life was buzzing in the force, he still couldn't detect what she was really feeling. 

Obi-Wan raced back into the room, the doctor not far behind him. Wordlessly, the doctor ran to the control panel and began flipping through all of the scanners. As Obi-Wan returned to Anakin's side, Padmé tracked him with her eyes. She inquisitively cocked her head. The doctor let out a hum of dissatisfaction and turned back towards the two Jedi. He was a short and rounded man with thinning whisps of dark hair that were cropped close to his scalp. "Unfortunately, I can't do anything about her consciousness," he said apologetically, dipping his head.

Anakin and Obi-Wan traded a wide eyed look. "Why can't you?" Anakin grumbled. "The last time I checked it wasn't normal practice for a patient to awaken in the tank."

The doctor lifted a hand and scratched at the back of his neck. "Well, this isn't a normal patient," he huffed. "Her lungs are too damaged to cope with the dose she requires." He dropped his hands back down to his sides. "I gave her the maximum dose I could safely administer, but it seems it's not quite enough."

"Doctor Kide, why didn't you alert us there was a risk of her waking?" Obi-Wan asked, taking a step towards the man.

"I didn't think there was one," he answered honestly, flicking his eyes back to the scanners on the control panel. "The next dose will be administer according to schedule any moment now."

Obi-Wan blew out a puff of air from his nose. "Thank you doctor, we'll watch her until she had lost consciousness again."

Doctor Kide dipped his head and strolled out of the room. Anakin watch him go, distrust blossoming in his chest. There was something about that doctor, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, that made him seem sly. The excuse he gave seemed plausible enough, but it didn’t sit right with the young Jedi. With a grumble, Anakin turned to back to Padmé. She was still watching them with curious eyes. "I don't understand why she hasn't tried to escape yet," Obi-Wan hummed the moment they heard the door clanking shut, lifting a hand to stroke his beard.

"Well, she clearly knows we are here," Anakin folded his arms over his chest and watched her warily. "Perhaps she knows better than to attempt it." Seemingly loosing interest in them, she craned her head up to the top of the bacta tank. Bending her knees, she pushed off the bottom of the tank and floated up towards the top. Her arms began to tenderly feel around the circuitry that was out of their line of sight. 

"She isn't as aggressive or angry as I expected a trapped Sith would be," Obi-Wan murmured as they watched her. When she was getting too explorational for Anakin's comfort, he reached a hand out and rapped his knuckles of the glass. Padmé's head snapped down towards the noise. Almost immediately, she floated herself back to the bottom of the glass. The gown flapped around her thighs as she descended like a feather.

"I know," Anakin murmured. "This feels an awful lot more like babysitting Padmé than it does Malice." Two brown eyes flicked between them. Obi-Wan gave out a quiet grunt of agreement. Perhaps Padmé just wasn't as aggressive as they thought she was, or perhaps she just knew when to pick her battles. Not much later, her movement slowed down. It didn’t take long until she was a floating body once more. The last thing to go still was her eyes. When they fluttered shut, he knew she was gone.

*

Padmé found herself drifting in and out of consciousness. Whenever she awoke, she had no idea where she was and it always took several moments to collect her senses. The minty nip of the bacta tank harassed her skin and burned her eyes. Bubbles fizzed in her ears and the mask she wore over her jaw cut awkwardly across her cheekbones. Everything was green. Every time she breathed, it felt like a knife was being plunged into her side. 

As time progressed and she continually lapsed in and out of awareness, she found herself feeling sicker and sicker. Nausea was tight around her stomach and her body was growing sluggish. There was something wrong with her, she knew it. It felt like her impending doom was looming like an an axe over her neck. 

The only positive thing about waking up was Anakin. He was always there, sitting in a chair by the glass. All she could see of him was a dark, warped shape, but she knew exactly who it was somehow. She could also tell when he was looking at her from the shiny, green glint his eyes gave when they reflected the light of the bacta. He would often speak to her, but his voice was warbled and distorted by the liquid in her ears. Padmé longed to know what he was saying but, from the sharp bite and somber tone, she realised it might not be anything good. In her last memory before the bacta, he had been keeping that scaffolding wedged between her ribs. The thought made her heart rate spike. The way bone scraped against metal with every breath she took haunted her. Even the thought of the pain it caused her sent cold shivers down her spine. Still, she knew he had only been trying to keep her alive. She couldn't blame him. In fact, she pitied him. That was the dream that had been tormenting him. To have it play out in front of him whilst she was dying before his eyes couldn't have been easy.

What really confused her however, was how she ended up in that position in the first place. Padmé assumed she must have lost consciousness during her fall from her speeder after her crash and reawakened just before she hit the floor. Then, was impaled from above. It was strange, because she didn't understand how she could have fallen from such a height without being flattened. In the last few moments of her decent, she vaguely recalled some invisible force rapidly slowing her down and laying her across the rubble. Anakin had shown up not much later, perhaps he had saved her? That idea didn't sit well within her. It felt like she was missing a piece of the puzzle.

Another thing that had her mind chasing its tail, was what Anakin had said whilst she was trapped beneath the rock. He had accused her of being a traitor, one thing she most certainly was not. Still, he'd spoken with so much conviction and rage that he was clearly convinced of its truth. This, coupled with the fact the Jedi wanted her arrested, told her she was going to have to fight to clear her name when she got out of the bacta tank.

Occasionally other people were with Anakin when she awoke. The only ones she could pick out were Yoda, because of his unique intonation and short stature, and Obi-Wan, because of the way Anakin spoke to him in a warmer tone than all of the others. It unnerved her that the Jedi visited so often and allowed Anakin to stay by her side. They must think she really had done something terrible.


	18. Sickly Evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, very late last night, I made the executive decision the completely change the end of this story. The original end was half plotted, but it was sloppy and not realistic and no one wants a sloppy, unrealistic story ending. I’ve cut the story a bit shorter, which means that there will most definitely be a sequel.  
> I’m writing the finale tonight, but I was doing plotting for the sequel earlier on today. Let me be honest, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having to completely change the direction of the story, but the more I plan it the more hyped I’m getting.  
> Let’s just say, I am now very excited to plunge in the sequel.   
> The message of this harrowing tale, don’t be alarmed if this specific fic seems to have an abrupt ending, the rest on the way.

That intense unease Sidious had felt since Malice escaped his clutches still tormented him from within. He sat rocking in his office chair. The city’s night lights poured in his wide windows. The senate building was nearly completely empty. Only the last few stragglers were milling around and working. Sucking in a deep breath, he clasped his hands in front of his face. Sidious had come scarily close to being exposed by the Jedi. Too close. Of course he had been able to escape easily, but never again would he allow himself to fall so near to them again. 

When he'd looped back later on, he'd found nothing but a pool of blood and cut scaffolding where Malice should have landed. Part of him had hoped she would simply die from the fall, but one call to his contact inside the temple and it became clear she was still very much alive. The longer time went on, the more he found himself cursing the idea he had, to use her like a pawn. 

A loud beep from his cylindrical communicator drew him back to the present. Reaching behind him, he pulled a hood over his head and down towards his nose. Pressing down on the beeping device with his knobbly fingers, the blue holo of a short, rounded man flickered to life above it. Thick glasses were pushed high up his large nose. A smile curled Sidious's lips. "Doctor Kide, what news do you bring of Mrs Amidala?" Sidious asked, leaning forwards.

"The sedative I'm using on her is too weak to keep her unconscious for the entire time between doses, but it's having the desired effect," he clasped his hands behind his back. "It was designed for Rodians, so it will rot her from the inside whilst looking like her body simply couldn't cope with the injuries and began shutting down."

"Good," Sidious purred, his smile becoming cat-like and wide. "How long before she dies?" 

"A matter of days," the doctor responded sharply, a proud grin beaming on his face. The unease inside of Sidious shifted just enough to let him blow out a sigh of relief.

"Wonderful," Sidious praised him, shamelessly stroking the doctor's pathetic ego. Kide puffed out his chest. "Keep up the good work and I will make you the richest man on Coruscant."

*

Anakin found himself at the centre of the Jedi council. Brilliant streams of daylight poured in through the thick windows. Many, unsmiling faces stared at him from the seats that circled around them. Several of them were flickering holograms. Folding his arms into his robes, he kept his back straight. Tiredness crept into his muscles and joints, but he had grown so used to the sensation he hardly felt it at all. "News, you have, of Senator Amidala?" Yoda asked, cocking his little green head to one side and staring up at Anakin expectantly.

"I sense her health is declining fast," Anakin informed them. Over the past few days, he'd noticed her skin becoming discoloured, even through the green liquid. Each time she awakened, she was progressively moving less and growing more sluggish. It seemed as though keeping her very eyes open was becoming tasking. "I don't think- " he paused before his voice broke. "I don't think she has much time left." A few concerned glances passed between the Jedi masters. It seemed to him they were too preoccupied from the potential loss of information to notice his minor show of emotion. All except Obi-Wan. His eyes met Anakin's with a pained apology. The thought of her dying was tearing him apart inside. If she died in that tank, then he might never know the truth. A relentless anxiety buzzed around his head like a hive of vicious bugs.

"If she is going to die anyway, then perhaps we should consider removing her from the tank early to find out what she knows," Mace suggested, staring down at Yoda. Anger burst to life within Anakin. How could Mace be so flippant with her life? Yes, she was a Sith, but they were Jedi. They were supposed to have a code to live by. Obi-Wan glanced over at him with a pleading gaze. It was the look he'd give Anakin when he wanted him to stay quiet. A look that said 'let me deal with this'.

"I think that would be a disservice to her life," Obi-Wan spoke calmly. "If we take her out of the bacta prematurely, we are condemning her to death and removing any slight chance she would have at survival." Mace stroked at his chin and clenched his jaw, but didn't automatically move to object.

"Masters, I have a feeling someone is behind her decline in health," Anakin spoke before they could continue their conversation any further. There was no way he could let them kill her before her time. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

"You suspect foul play?" Plo Koon asked, folding his long fingers over the bone of his kneecap. All eyes turned to Anakin.

"I do," Anakin responded, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Originally Doctor Kide predicted that she would recover if she lasted through the first night. Now, he has done very little to find the root cause of her dying and pins it on the fact her organs sustained too much damage." Anger burned fiercely in his chest. Every time he spoke to that man he got a bad feeling. There was nothing but self interest in Kide's heart.

"Sensed there is a dark scheme at play, I have also," Yoda agreed, leaning back into his seat.

"Kide is one of our most trusted doctors," Mace argued, his brows forming a scowl. More murmurs spread about the room.

"No one is invulnerable to the temptations of the darkside," Ki Adi Mundi spoke softly, but everyone heard him. They always did. A thoughtful silence befell them all.

"Investigate Kide, you will," Yoda told him. Anakin dipped his head. He was more than willing to run that doctor through with his lightsaber as it was, but having proof wouldn't hurt.

"Should we be trusting Skywalker with this task?" Mace asked, eyeing Anakin from his peripheral vision and turning his body towards the grandmaster. "It's clear he is too emotionally invested." There were a few nods of agreement. Anakin had to fight to keep his temped down. Any show of expression would only prove Mace's point and he wanted to make sure he was the one that killed the scum that was hurting Padmé whilst she was utterly defenceless.

Yoda let out a low hum, scanning Anakin with stern eyes. "Perhaps he should report to the council before taking any action." Kit Fisto suggested. All the Jedi were looking at him with uncertainty. Like was was a bomb that had just reached the end of his countdown. This rose further anger within him. If he had to wait for the collective opinion of the council, she would only grow closer to death. 

"If I were to do, that she'd die before we made any move," Anakin grumbled, a line forming between his brows.

"Then accompany you, Kenobi will, and report to me, you must," Yoda spoke, ending the discussions. Although Anakin didn't appreciate he had to be babysat, he knew better than to object.


	19. Suspicion Investigation

If there was one thing Anakin hated within the republic, it was the sycophants in it for the money. The sick rich folk that profited from the war. He could always detect one the moment they opened their mouths. There was a snide, sly air around them that seemed to steam out their very pores. Doctor Kide, was one such man. How the other Jedi couldn't sense it, he didn't know. Obi-Wan and Anakin had pulled him into one of the alcoves in a quiet hall of the temple. Only the occasional person strolled by, giving them relative solitude.

Tall, intricately carved marble walls rose tall around them. Blinding lights streamed down from above. The doctor smiled at them with a trickily pleasant expression. "How can I help you gentlemen?" he asked in a chipper tone.

"We wanted to ask you a few questions about... that patient," Obi-Wan spoke, lifting his brows suggestively.

"Ah yes, of course," the doctor nodded, but Anakin noticed the corners of his lips twitching downwards. "Ask away." Days of pent up fury began to boil away within him. Terror gnawed at his soul. What would he do if Padmé died? What could he do? He most certainly couldn't just cleave his feelings for her from his heart, they were too deeply lodged and had been there for too long.

"We can sense she is dying, Doctor, do you have any explanation why?" Obi-Wan was still talking as though this was a perfectly civil conversation. Perhaps from the doctor's eyes it was, but Anakin wanted nothing more than force the answers out of him. The only thing stopping his aggression was the fierce reprimanding his former master had given him before they pulled the doctor to the side.

"Yes, as I have said, the internal damage her ribs inflicted upon her has proven to be too much for her body to handle. I fear it has begun shutting down," he told them. Although this was nothing new, it still hit Anakin like punch to the gut and momentarily winded him.

"But originally you said she would live, provided she made it through the first night," Anakin bit, earning him a scowl from Obi-Wan.

The doctor sent Anakin apologetic eyes. The kind of eyes he would no doubt wear every time he had to tell someone a loved one was dying. "Medicine isn't an exact science," Kide spoke to him slowly and clearly. "With injuries like hers, it can be difficult to predict how she will recover. Sometimes all you can do is provide what a patient needs in the moment and hold out for the best." Anakin gritted his teeth. It was a convincing act. He almost felt like the doctor actually cared and was just doing his best.

"Yes, we understand," Obi-Wan nodded. "You wouldn't mind if we were to bring another doctor, just for a second opinion?" He cocked a well groomed brow. Although the doctor remained pleasantly neutral on the outside, Anakin felt worry flash within him. Before the doctor could even respond, Anakin had grabbed him by his lapels and slammed him against the marble wall. Kide let out and 'offt'. "Anakin!" Obi-Wan barked.

Anakin lowered his face down to the doctors and intensely glowered at him. "Tell us the truth, why is she dying?" He growled.

Kide raised his arms in defence. "I've already told you!" he bleated. Genuine terror rolled off of him in waves. Amongst the fear for his life, Anakin detected a deep concern for something he really didn't want known to come to light. Obi-Wan grabbed his former apprentices shoulders and dragged him backwards off the doctor. Reluctantly, Anakin let go.

"I'm so sorry about that," Obi-Wan chuckled, stepping between them and pressing a hand against Anakin's chest. "He is a little over worked," he nodded his head back to Anakin, "thank you for your time." The doctor straightened out his robes and gave them a disgruntled nod before scurrying down the corridor. Anakin glared fiercely at his back until he vanished from sight. "You must learn to control yourself," Obi-Wan snapped, turning to face his former apprentice with a disapproving scowl.

"Didn't you feel it!" Anakin hissed, thrusting an arm in the direction the doctor disappeared. "He was hiding something. He was scared!" His voice lifted to a near shout.

"Of course I did!" Obi-Wan objected. "We still have to confer with Yoda and you have practically spelled out the Jedi are suspicious of his true intentions. We can't catch him by surprise anymore." Anakin went silent, his arms flapping down to his sides. Obi-Wan sighed, lifting a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "Maybe Windu was right. You're too close to this."

Anakin's upper lip curled. His hands clenched into tight fists. "That's not true!" he argued, his whole body felt tight. "I just know a lier who doesn't care about the lives he's ruining when I see one."

"The senator is a Sith with no living family. If she dies, who's life would be ruined?" he cocked a brow. Anakin was stunned into silence, taking a step back from Obi-Wan. "Would it be yours?" 

"Of course not," Anakin grumbled defensively, but he couldn't take his eyes away from Obi-Wan's accusing glare.

"Is that the truth?" his voice was pained. Anakin could feel betrayal leaking out his master's mind. Unable to meet his eyes he dropped them to the floor. "I told you not to get involved with the senator many times," Obi-Wan ran a hand down his face and began pacing the breadth of the corridor. His footsteps echoed around them. "Why didn't you listen?"

"I don't know what you mean," Anakin answered slowly, cautiously eyeing his master's moving form.

Obi-Wan stopped, spinning on his heels to face him and sending him a world-weary stare. "I'm no fool Anakin. I know how deeply you and the senator care for one another and I've seen you sneaking off to call her when we are on the front," he sounded completely exasperated. "I had hoped you wouldn't let your attachment get in the way, but you never have before. I know you love her, but it might be for the best if this assignment was handed to someone else." A shock of fear coursed through him at Obi-Wan’s voice. That wasn’t a threat, it was a statement of fact.

Anakin took a step towards him, reaching out slowly. "Obi-Wan, please don't," he practically begged. One word from the bearded Jedi, and Yoda would have no qualms giving Padmé's case to some other Jedi. A council member, no doubt. His mind scrambled for an excuse. "Out of all of us, she trusts me the most." He wasn't sure if that was still true, but if any of the time they had spent together was real the he might be the only one able to get past her Sith exterior. "I might be the only way you'll get her to talk."

Obi-Wan let out a long, weary sigh. Lifting a hand, he raked it through his hair. "Fine, but I can't trust you to operate on your own anymore," he said it like the very words burned him. A pained wince warped his features. Anakin went still, reminding himself it was better than nothing. "We're doing the rest of this together."

*

Sidious had been peaceful minding his own business when his communicator began bleeping. The light of the brilliant sun poured in through his windows, illuminating the crimson decor. Sitting at his desk, he peered down at the communicator. Clenching his jaw, he yanked open a drawer and pulled out the thick cloak. He gracefully draped it over his shoulders and pulled the hood down over his eyes. With a grumbling sigh, he pressed down on the communicator and a blue hologram burst to life. It was Doctor Kide. His normally styled hair was falling out of place and his fine robes sat dishevelled on his shoulders. "Doctor Kide, is everything alright?" Sidious asked leaning forwards, towards the hologram.

"The Jedi are on to me," he whispered harshly, his eyes darting from side to side like scared prey. "They cornered me in the temple and started asking all these questions about her treatment. One of them nearly killed me,” he snapped out the last statement. Sidious settled back into his chair and pressed the tips of his fingers together. Anger began boiling inside of him. This damn fool couldn't even kill someone properly.

"Did you escape?" Sidious drawled, rocking his chair back and forwards.

"They haven't made a formal arrest yet," the doctor responded, sending Sidious a panicked stare. The one thing Palpatine couldn't have, was Malice surviving. It jeopardised everything he had spent so long creating. Plans began whizzing around in his mind like a bee set loose on a flower bed.

"Then kill her now and flee to the southern docks," he instructed with deadly diction. The doctors eyes widened a fraction and his mouth fell open. 

"Me leaving the temple was never part of our arrangement," the doctor argued, his brows pulling together and arms flaring out to the sides.

"Unfortunately, your incompetence lead the Jedi straight to you," Sidious spat. The doctor flinched at his words. "If they find out what you've done, and they will, you'll be looking at prison for life if you aren't executed on the spot." Kide's face visibly paled and his hands dropped down. Even his rounded body went ridged. "You're lucky I'm giving you the opportunity to survive," he sneered.

The doctor swallowed hard and mutely nodded his head. "I'll poison her, then I'll be at the docks," his voice hardly a whisper. 

"Good," Sidious purred.


	20. Death’s Archway

Malice was tugged to control when prickles of panic raced all across her skin. Fiery pain burned inside of her. It was like someone had shoved hot coals down her throat. Her skin and eyes nipped aggressively, but the pain was eclipsed by the inferno within. All she could see was green. All she could hear was bubbling. Every breath was like a blow to the ribs. The light side was all around her, nearly drowning her completely. There were hundreds of intensely bright force signatures shining close by. The Jedi temple. She must be in the Jedi temple. Wrapping her dark presence tightly around herself, she smothered it down. She most certainly couldn't fight Jedi in this state.

Reaching out with her hands, she felt the mask on her face, the curving glass in front of her, the long tubes connected to her forearms. A bacta tank. She was in a bacta tank. The pain within her intensified, making her toes curl. Her body was unnaturally sluggish and difficult to move. Fear rattled inside of her. These bacta tanks were meant to heal, so why was she so close to death? Malice began sorting through the folds of the lightside. Her heart jolted when she found it. A dark, incredibly feint smudge of malicious intent was only meters away from her. It was old and fading fast, but she could sense someone had tried to hurt her. They were long gone, and the only reason she could sense it was because it was so close by. 

Lifting her head, she stared at the tubing above her. It was this tank. This tank was killing her. With a hiss of rage, she began ripping at the tubes. They were tugged out of her arm with a sting, leaving little swirling trails of blood. She tugged on the mask at her face and ripped it clean off. Bacta solution poured down her nose and throat, instantly choking her. Panic welled up within her as she kicked up to the top of the tank. Dragging her fingers around the rim, she searched for some way, any way, to free herself. Pressure built on the sides of her temples. Agony tore at her insides. Her search was doing nothing. Her throat and nose burned. Her lungs seized within her chest. The pain that wracked her body was dulled by her impending doom. 

Running out of time, she gave up on finding a safe way out. Allowing the force to flow through her, she reached out with a hand and shattered the glass around her. Malice crumbled forwards with a flood of liquid onto a bed of glass. Her body smacked against the cold ground hard, knocking the air from her lungs. She stifled a scream as her side was tugged harshly. White light flashed before her eyes and ringing erupted in her ears. From the burning within, she half expected there to be smoke every time she exhaled. Cold wind blew over her wet skin. Every inch of her trembled. Wet hair clung to her back. Propping her upper body up with her hands and pushing her hips up to lean weight on her knees, she began coughing and hacking. A bitter, metallic taste sprung to her mouth. The pain the jerky movement caused her side brought tears to her eyes. It felt like she was being repeatedly stabbed in the ribs.

The force was still blindingly light around her. Malice's small use of the darkside had been completely drowned out. No one seemed to have noticed. Not too far away, she could sense the unsteady wobbling of Skywalker's presence. At that realisation, Padmé's consciousness came closer to the surface. Malice couldn't suppress it any more than she could a bubble rising within water, but it never full breached. She began to drag herself along the wet ground, away from the bacta. Shards of glass stuck into her knees and palms, but she hardly noticed them. A grunt of effort left her lips and her muscles trembled from the strain.

The fire within her chest was growing worse. It spread through her veins to the tips of her fingers and toes. She was being eaten alive from the inside. Another coughing fit wrecked havoc on her body. This time a few droplets of blood splattered down into the thin layer of bacta solution below. The heat in her body skyrocketed, causing sweat to bead along her forehead. A terrifying reality settled in. If she didn't get help, she was going to die. Judging from the fact the Jedi had her in a bacta tank, it was clear they wanted her alive. Unless they were the ones who poisoned her? Her mind was too scrambled to reason it out. If they killed her when she asked for help, at least it would end the pain.

Clenching her hand into a fist, she took in a few shaky breaths. The force was fading from her grips with Padmé so close by, but she could just about pick out individual Jedi. There was only one she was confident she could reach when her mind was such a mess. There was only one Padmé's emotions told her to trust. Reaching out to Skywalker's presence, she felt their minds connect instantly. "Anakin," she wheezed beneath her breath. His attention turned to her. 

Another wave of unbearable heat rushed over her, severing their connection and causing her to crumble to the floor. It felt as though her blood was made from molten lava. Lights spun before her eyes. Her body had become too weary to move, so she lay with her cheek pressed against the refreshingly cold ground. Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes over. All she could do was wait and hope he had gotten the message. Hope he would realise she was dying. Hope whatever bond he had with Padmé was still strong enough to make him care.

*

Anakin and Obi-Wan had found Yoda in the quiet seclusion of a meditation chamber. Yoda was sat on a pouffe at the centre of the room. His short, stubby legs were folded in and his feet pressed together. The gnarled walking stick he always carried lay across his lap. The two younger Jedi stood in front of him. The tiny room was gloomy and dark, but carried a reverent air of peace. Anakin was switching his weight from foot to foot. His heart was racing in his chest and his legs itched to move. A suffocating sense of panic was wrapping tightly around him, but he couldn't figure out why. Something was wrong. The force was flowing around the temple differently than it normally would. What used to be the glassy surface of a river now had to shift around a protruding rock. Something was wrong, he just couldn't figure out what. 

Obi-Wan and Yoda seemed to share none of his concern. They were passive and calm as always. "Find out, what from your confrontation with the doctor, did you?" Yoda asked, his hazel eyes twinkled with concern as they peered at Anakin's twitchy form. 

"During the conversation we detected several times he was keeping something hidden about Senator Amidala," Obi-Wan hummed, glancing over at his former apprentice. "Wether or not it's the cause for her deterioration, we can't be sure of just yet."

"What think of this, do you?" Yoda quirked a brow up to Anakin.

"He's definitely doing something to her," Anakin growled, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "He reeked of self indulgence."

"Not good, this is," Yoda scratched at his chin. "Heavily trusted, Kide was. Spill our secrets to Sidious, he could." Anakin pressed his lips into a thin line. It seemed Sidious was everywhere. No matter what they did or where they turned, the Sith was always hovering in front of him. "Arrest and interrogate him, we must."

A dark presence tugged meekly at the corner of Anakin’s attention. One he recognised well. He turned around, facing in her direction. "Anakin," her voice whispered through the force. It was wheezy and sharp. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Obi-Wan was speaking but Anakin had stopped listening. His mind was sent reeling by what he was sensing. Padmé's presence was quivering like a leaf and wrought with pain. Before he could ask her anything, there was a spike of distress on her end and the connection was snapped like spider's string.

Anakin took a shaky step backwards, his eyes wide open. "What's wrong Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked, his hand wrapped around his former padawan's upper arm. His brow was crinkled with concern.

"It's Padmé," Anakin whispered in a soft voice. "She reached out to me." Pulling away from Obi-Wan, he moved towards the door. "I think she is dying."

With a pounding heart, he burst out of the room and into the marble halls. As he tore through the temple at a death defying pace, his footsteps thundered in his ears. Feeling them in the force, he was vaguely aware of Obi-Wan and Yoda following close behind. Anakin gritted his teeth and pushed his body to the limit. All the Jedi he raced past stared. Using the force, he propelled himself faster. The wind whipped in his face making his eyes water. The whole journey, his mind tormented him with possibilities. What if he was too late?

Skidding around a corner, he came to a halt before a large, heavy door with a rectangular window within. It slowly creaked upwards. Through the window, he saw there was no green light shining in the gloom as there was supposed to be. His heart kept pounding. The moment it was high enough, he ducked beneath and staggered in. His feet splashed against a wet floor. The only light came from the doorway behind him. The bacta tank was in gleaming pieces all over the floor. Padmé was laying face down in the centre of it all. The light from the hallway shone on her unmoving form.

Anakin's breath caught in his throat. Dashing over the floor, he threw himself onto his knees by her side. Glass crunched beneath him. Obi-Wan and Yoda came whizzing into the room with splashing footsteps. Anakin grasped at one of her arms, rolling her onto her front. Padmé's eyes were squeezed shut and her face taught with pain. Her skin was tinged yellow and her whole body was ferociously shaking. The two older Jedi stopped by her head. "She is alive, but I don't think for much longer," Anakin spoke in a rush, staring up at the wide eyed Obi-Wan. "Go get a medic." The Jedi master dipped his head and rushed out of the room.

When Anakin looked back down, her eyes were open at staring at him. The irises burned Sith yellow. The whites were yellowed like custard. Revulsion stirred within him. Such evil looked so out of place on her features. Yoda padded around to her other side, staring down at her face with evident concern. When they were this close, Anakin could sense the darkness within her. It poked out like Wookie fur when their arms were badly bandaged. It was just like facing off against Malice. Clenching his jaw, he fought back the hurt that swelled within him. If that was what was behind her walls, then perhaps it was for the best she always had them raised. "Why did you break out of the bacta tank?" he asked, his voice hitching. Surely she should have known it wouldn't end well.

Padmé was breathing in short pants. A muscle in her jaw twitched. "It was killing me," her voice was strained to a whisper. A vicious set of coughs rocked her whole body. Anakin could only watch as one of her hands clawed at her side. By the time she settled, trails of blood were leaking from the corners of her lips. Her face fell neutral and her body went still. The white gown she wore clung slickly to her yellowed skin and beads of bacta solution completely covered her, shifting and rolling with every movement.

Yoda lifted a hand over her chest. "Keep her alive, we must try to," he commanded. Anakin nodded and followed suit. Placing his human hand over her stomach, his brows crinkled when he felt the burning heat that radiated off of her. Closing his eyes over, he pulled the light side through himself and channelled it into her body. It wouldn't do much but keep her fighting just a bit longer, and that could be all they needed. After a few moments, he felt her presence begin to shift. The darkness retreated deep within her mind as though it were its own little bubble of consciousness. The strong, sturdy defences he respected just as much as he hated were slotted into place.

"What happened this time?" Padmé wheezed, exasperation laced her words. Anakin startled, his eyes snapped open and down towards her. Her eyes had shifted back to the honeyed brown he knew so well. Her face was fatigued to neutrality, but there was confusion lingering on what little expression she could muster. How could she not know what happened? They had just been talking about it.

"Delerium, Skywalker. Loose focus, you must not," Yoda reprimanded him. Turning away from her, he closed his eyes and focused on channelling the lightside into her. After what felt like days of waiting, Obi-Wan cam running back into the room. Behind him was a mirialan woman and rounded droid that hovered over the ground like a floating cauldron. The glass crunched under their feet.

The woman crouched to the ground by Padmé's side, her dark robes billowing out around her. "How long has she been like this?" the woman asked with a strong, steady voice. She pressed the back of her hand to Padmé's forehead, a frown cutting her green face.

"Ten to fifteen minutes," Anakin responded, sitting back on the ground further away from Padmé. Obi-Wan and Yoda moved to stand by his side. 

The woman nodded and turned to the cauldron droid. "A type three blood test," she commanded it. A panel opened on its impressive belly and out slid a slender arm with a plunging syringe at the top. Anakin winced at the sight of it. He cast his eyes down to the floor just as it stabbed into a her shoulder with a hiss and a click. A loud shout was drawn from her lips, but even it was strained and half-hearted. 

When he looked back, the droid was pulling its arm back inside of itself. Padmé's head lolled away from him. The droid buzzed for a few moments before letting out a few short beeps. The woman's face contorted slightly. "Administer a neutralising agent." The droid pulled out a long syringe this time, filled with a blue liquid and pressed it into the crook of her arm. Padmé's body went tense as he injected her with the solution. "Contact the emergency response team and tell them to bring a stretcher," she told the droid. It beeped an affirmation.

The doctor blew out a sharp huff of air through her nose and levelled her dark eyes with them all. "Someone really wants this woman dead," she told them. Anakin clenched his jaw. Anger began sizzling inside of him. Kide was a dead man. "It seems she was given a dose of the drug we use on Dathomirians to raise their body temperature and kill off viruses. It is deadly to humans, but I think we neutralised it before it became too dangerous." She dusted off her dress and stared down at Padmé. "It seems there was also an alarming amount of a Rodian anaesthesia in her blood. It's causing her organs to shut down." Anakin pinched at the bridge of his nose. He should have killed that no good doctor when he had the chance.

"Will she be okay?" Obi-Wan asked calmly.

"The immediate danger is over," the mirian nodded, "but it's hard to tell if the damage is reversible."


	21. Karma’s Prognosis

Dooku knew a foolish man when he saw one. As the ramp on his ship descended to the floor, he caught sight of a short, rounded doctor in long, draping robes. A cruel smile split his lips. The man stared up at him with rounded eyes as he descended the ramp into the small, secluded docking bay below. There was no one but them and Dooku's ship in the vacant space. "Doctor Kide, I presume?" Dooku drawled, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Y-yes," Kide stammered, his eyes flicking all over the place in a nervous panic. "Are you going to help me escape the Jedi?" he asked, wringing his hands together in one long, constant motion.

"Indeed," Dooku purred, stepping down onto the glossy hangar floor. The man's nerves seemed to settle at this. "Is the senator dead?" he asked as he towered over the doctor.

"Yes. Of course," he nodded his head vehemently.

"Fantastic," Dooku praised him. Whipping out his lightsaber, he cut clean through Kide's chest. The doctor's body fell to the ground in two, heft pieces. As he stared at the smouldering corpse and Kide's wide, glassy eyes, he found pity rising within him. This was a man who had been lured into doing Sidious's bidding. One failure equates to death. Dooku could call this man an imbecile, and perhaps he was, but that would be condemning himself to stupidity. Dooku himself had succumbed to the poisonous lies of the dark lord. The temptations he offered were simply too great. In the end, he knew Sidious would try and dispatch of him the same way he had Kide. It was only a matter of time.

With a long sigh, he clipped his blade back onto his belt and climbed up the ship's ramp. His cape bellowed out behind him. Manoeuvring through the ship's small, white interior he strode into the cockpit and hovered over the curving flight console. Pressing down on one of the hundreds of coloured buttons that blinked up at him, he sucked in sharp breath. A tiny hologram of Sidious flickered to life above a cylindrical projector that was built into the control panel. The small, cloaked man peered at him expectantly from beneath a dark hood. "It is done, master," Dooku spoke in a bland, emotionless voice.

"What of his 'mission'," Sidious sneered with a grin.

"Senator Amidala is dead," Dooku confirmed. One last thorn in their side had been removed. They could finally get back to conquering the galaxy.

*

Despite how emotionally weary he had become, Anakin still found stress flaying his mind. Padmé had been put back into a bacta tank in the isolation of a tiny recovery room in temple's medical wing. As he stood in it, there was hardly any room to move. He could just about muster a few steps towards the tank and a few steps back. The green light shone from within the glass as the only light source. A throbbing pain ached within his heart as he stared at Padmé's floating form. The only difference there was from the last time he'd seen her in a bacta tank were the several long tubes that were stuck into her arms. On each side there was a tube stuck into the crook of her elbow and they were both scarlet red. 

Obi-Wan had assigned Anakin to protect the senator for the duration of her recovery, but they both knew the real reason he had done it. He would never settle if it had been given to anyone else. Then again, over the past few days, Anakin's mind had been a turbulent mess. For the first time, he'd looked at Padmé's face and felt Malice. He’d seen her eyes that repugnant shade of yellow. He couldn't deny it anymore. The senator was secretly a Sith. She must be, to have used the force to escape the bacta tank before it killed her. To have so much hatred it glowed within the colour of her irises. Tears sprung to his eyes as he stared at her. That face he loved so much became warped beyond recognition. It was nothing more that a messy haze of colours and splotches.

Tilting his head back, he tried to blink the tears away but it just prompted them to form warm droplets that rolled down his cheeks. Raising his arms, he raked his hands back through his hair. All the emotion he'd been fighting of was reigning down on him like a tsunami. He felt himself drowning in ways he knew a Jedi shouldn't. There were not enough words to describe what he was feeling. Angry, betrayed and devastated just didn't seem to be enough. What Padmé had experienced physically was being inflicted on him mentally. It felt like he was shutting down within. All the things he used to enjoy were empty, menial tasks. Not even tinkering droids could steady his mind.

Dropping his arms to his side, he pushed out a shaky breath. Swiping tears off his face, he stared at Padmé's blank expression. He resented the part of himself that still clung desperately to the loving lies she once whispered in his ears. He resented the part of himself that couldn't stop caring for her. He resented the part of himself that still believed this was all one misunderstanding and somehow Padmé was innocent. The logical part of him knew he should hate her, but his heart wouldn't relent.

Two familiar, blindingly bright force presences were approaching the room. Anakin sniffled and leaned back against the wall furthest from the bacta tank. Stuffing away his emotions for later, he focused on keeping his breath steady. The door slid open. Obi-Wan and Yoda stepped into the room. "Skywalker," Yoda greeted him with the dip of his head and a warm smile. The door whooshed shut behind him. 

"Masters," Anakin greeted them in response, his face still trapped in a slight scowl. 

"We found Doctor Kide," Obi-Wan sighed, shuffling over to Anakin's side. "In two pieces." Anakin was ashamed of the dark delight that rose within him. That man was scum of the highest level, taking advantage of the weak, but no Jedi should ever rejoice in death. 

"The news of the senator, what is?" Yoda asked as he stood at the bottom of the bacta tank and stared up at the unconscious Sith floating peacefully within. Anakin followed his gaze to Padmé's face. It was half concealed by a mask, but still so peaceful.

"At the moment her prognosis is good," Anakin told them, folding his arms tightly. "Most of the internal damage can be reversed and the bacta is clearing up most of her flesh wounds." The two masters stared at him expectantly as they could feel he had more to say. "They say if she does recover, she won't be able to do much without experiencing severe fatigue." Obi-Wan hummed and scratched at his beard. Yoda's brows crinkled. The worry behind their eyes told Anakin that they too were still struggling to come to grips with Padmé's betrayal. "If all goes well, she should be ready for interrogation within a few weeks."

"Well then," Obi-Wan hummed. "We'd better stay on our guard until then."


	22. Sith Have Their Uses

Padmé sat silently in the interrogation room. It was small and impossibly bright. There was hardly any room to move around the long, metallic table that was sat in front of her. Her wrists were tightly cuffed. The metal that entrapped them was secured to the top of the table. The blinding white lights from above reflected harshly from its shiny surface. Leaning back into her sturdy chair, she crossed her legs over and tilted her head back. Earlier that day they had woken her after she had been removed from the bacta. They'd told her the prognosis, given her a little while to absorb the information and sent her off to be interrogated. The whole way she had been escorted by temple guards. Padmé had no idea what the Jedi thought she had done, but that seemed like overkill. Padmé probably wouldn't even be a match for the younglings.

Tapping her foot on the ground, she could feel the anticipation killing her. Across the table was a single metal chair. If the Jedi were planning to make an appearance, she hoped it was sometime soon. 

Padmé was still partially in shock from when she had seen the date. The last month of her life was just spots of consciousness in moments where she would have rather been knocked out. In truth, she didn't even really know how she'd gotten into most of those situations. The last cohesive memory she had was of her speeder crash.

The door behind her whooshed open. Padmé went ridged, her breath caught in her throat. Three sets of footsteps entered the room. As they passed by, she looked up to see Obi-Wan and Yoda edging around the table towards the other side. The third person hovered just behind her, but she didn't need to look to know who it was. She could feel his anger roasting her back. Fantastic. It seemed even Anakin was convinced she had done something so terrible she couldn't be trusted to walk through the temple without several armed escorts. Padmé flashed the two masters a warm smile. "Master Kenobi, Master Yoda, it's good to see you," she greeted them. 

Yoda hopped up onto the table, his expression grim. Kenobi thunked down into the seat, a thin smile wavered on his lips. "It's refreshing to see you awake, although you needn't be so polite Senator," Kenobi responded, clasping his hands together. Padmé pulled her brows together and cocked her head to one side. "We know of your true nature." With a flick of his wrist, he opened the bindings keeping her arms taught. Padmé pulled them back to her chest and rubbed at her wrists.

"My true nature," she repeated slowly, her face twisting in confusion.

"Don't be coy," Anakin's voice rumbled behind her. It was so thick with aggression that goosebumps prickled over her neck. Glancing back over her shoulder, she caught sight of him. He was glowering down at her so fiercely it made her heart jump into her mouth. He was leaning back against the wall, his hair was disheveled and dark bag lay beneath his bloodshot eyes. Padmé's gut sank. "We know you're a Sith."

Padmé froze for a moment, not entirely sure she had heard him correctly. "A Sith?" she repeated, her jaw going slack. His eyes darkened. Turning back around to Obi-Wan and Yoda, she found them wearing the same stoic expression. "A Sith?" she asked again, her voice hitching. When they didn't respond, she found her answer. "That's ridiculous." She had to fight down a smile because of the sheer absurdity of the claim. "I have no more connection to the force than a pebble," she protested.

"You'd like us to think that, wouldn't you Senator?" Obi-Wan responded with edge to his voice. Padmé's face twisted even further. Surely they knew better than she did that she had no sway over the force? Shouldn't that be painfully obvious to powerful Jedi like them? 

"We've seen you using it," Anakin snapped behind her. 

"You most certainly have not," she reprimanded him sharply, not even turning to look at him. Obi-Wan lifted his eyes over her head, no doubt meeting the gaze of his former padawan. His brows tugged down a little. Yoda was watching her closely with calm and curious eyes. She couldn't figure out what he was thinking. She couldn’t figure out what any of them were thinking and it terrified her. Her heart was racing and her chest impossibly tight.

"Wether you admit to it of not, we have more than enough proof to condemn you for life," Obi-Wan informed her sternly, his gaze hardening on her.

"Like what?" Padmé scoffed, leaning towards them. She was genuinely curious. What information could they possibly have that would lead them to believe something that was so blatantly untrue.

"You mean, aside from seeing you speak with Darth Sidious?" Obi-Wan asked dryly, pressing his lips into a tight line. Padmé didn't even know who that was. "Well, we could start with the fact that there are no Rodians on Hoth. If you weren't hiding something, then why would you lie in your interrogation?"

Padmé went completely still. "No Rodians on Hoth..." she murmured beneath her breath, her eyes dropped to the table in front of her. Although her first instinct was to question him, she knew and trusted Obi-Wan. If he said there were no Rodians on Hoth, then there were no Rodians on Hoth. Her face fell. If she hadn't been on a negotiation mission, then what had she been doing? Lifting her eyes to meet Obi-Wan's dissatisfied stare, the reality of her situation settled in. If there was ever a time to tell the truth, it was now. "I didn't lie in that interrogation," she responded calmly, straightening out a little. "Perhaps I took a few wild guesses, but I told you exactly where I thought I was."

Obi-Wan's face warped in confusion. Yoda tilted his head to one side and lowered himself to sit atop the table's surface, placing his walking stick over his lap. "Where you thought you were?" The bearded Jedi cocked a brow.

Padmé let out a long sigh. She was too far in to back out now. "If I had told you the complete truth, I'd have explained that I have zero memory of the thirteen rotations I spent on Hoth," she told him, her heart hammered in her chest. Fear rose within her. What if they didn’t believe her? What if they really convicted her of being a Sith?

For a second, Obi-Wan stared at her blankly until a small smile curved his lips. "Right, and I suppose you also have no memory of the day the Trongonian king was murdered?" he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Padmé blinked. It required quite a bit of effort to project herself that far back into the past. It took her a few moments to locate the event he spoke of. When she did, a dull buzzing erupted within her. Lifting a stony gaze to meet Obi-Wan's, she held his unwavering stare with just as much intensity as he. "Yes," she responded.

"Why should we believe you?" Anakin snapped, but she could hear hurt in his voice. This was the exact opposite of how she wanted to tell him, but she guessed she was too slow so fate did it for her.

"It's the truth," she spoke softly, casting a glance back towards him. He was still scowling furiously, his eyes venomously narrowed. Returning her gaze to Obi-Wan, she added, "I was on my way back from an appointment at the medical centre about that very thing when I got into the speeder crash."

"Is that why were you so late in returning to the senate?" Obi-Wan asked quizzically, the coldness in his voice fading a little.

Padmé felt a little heat of embarrassment blushing her cheeks. "Yes, my appointment was pushed back because I slept in," she admitted with a sigh, sitting back in her seat. Behind her, she heard Anakin shifting slightly. This caught Obi-Wan's attention.

"How curious. Very convenient, considering we had questioned you the day before," Obi-Wan commented. Yoda watched her with intensely curious eyes.

"It's quite a normal mistake to make, Master Kenobi. Especially if you are human," Padmé told him sternly. 

"Curious, I am," Yoda spoke finally, catching her stare with his gentle eyes. "Remember much of the crash, do you?"

Padmé slouched into the chair, cast her eyes to the ceiling and attempted to piece together the scattered chunks of her memory. "I remember falling," She hummed, screwing up her eyes as she tried to sort through the thick fog that blanketed the past few months of her life. "Then I think I must have passed out," she sucked on her cheeks and strained her brain hard. "Next thing I knew I was falling again, but quickly slowing. When I landed, it was softly. Then something fell from above and-" she paused and stared down at her side. "I think... impaled me?" Her face tightened with uncertainty as she stared between the two Jedi. "Then you and Anakin appeared."

Obi-Wan's brows shot up. Once again, Anakin shifted behind her. Yoda was the only one who didn't seem surprised. He remained completely impassive. "Those were two very different events, Senator," Anakin's voice was soft, a jarring difference from what she had heard not long before. Padmé sent him a dubious look, but his face was set with absolute certainty.

"The crash took place seventeen rotations before you were impaled," Obi-Wan eyed her cautiously. "But you did fall from a height that should have killed you both times."

Padmé stared at him with an empty gaze. "Seventeen rotations?" her voice hardly audible. She lurched forwards. "Seventeen rotations?" She spoke much louder, with a strong mix of disbelief and terror. That was the longest she had ever blacked out. Her jaw went slack and she slumped back into her chair. Fear juggled her organs. "What is it you think I did during that time?" she asked quietly.

"Kill General Grievous," Anakin spoke gruffly behind her.

"Grievous is dead?" her voice hitched. Obi-Wan nodded solemnly. Padmé absorbed that information for a moment, allowing it to wash over her. "As much as I'd want to end Grievous's brutality, I don't think I quite have the skill set for that."

"Those thirteen days you thought you spent on Hoth, one of them was actually with us on a captured Separatist ship over Florrum," Obi-Wan told her, leaning forwards onto his elbows. "Believe me, you most certainly do have the skill set to kill Grievous." Padmé shook her head, eyes not leaving his and mouth ajar. Obi-Wan pressed his lips together. "Tell me, when you arrived back on Coruscant after your supposed visit to Hoth, were any of your ribs broken?"

Padmé clenched her jaw tightly. "A little sore perhaps, but I wouldn't go as far as calling them broken," she answered curtly. "I just assumed the 'supposed' Rodians didn't like my treaty."

"No, no, no," Obi-Wan chuckled. "That was Anakin, and they were definitely broken." Padmé heard the Jedi behind her completely stiffen and let out a grunt of disapproval. Padmé fell silent, her brows pulled together. The thought of fighting against Anakin wasn't a fond one. She found herself unable to respond. Obi-Wan wouldn't lie, she knew he wouldn't, and everything he said seemed to add up. Her gut sank. Everytime she blacked out, was she out there reigning terror across the galaxy? The thought sickened her to her stomach. 

"Skywalker, remain here with the senator, for now you will," Yoda pushed himself to his feet. All eyes focused on him. "Verify with the medical centre, her story, Obi-Wan and must." He jumped down to the floor and began hobbling towards the door, his stick tapping the rhythm of his pace.

"I'll see you soon no doubt," Obi-Wan tilted his head towards her and pushed himself to his feet. Following after the grandmaster, he exited the room. The moment the door whisked shut behind them, Padmé stiffened slightly. Anakin was unpredictable, even to her. There was no telling what he would say or do now they were alone. She could only imaging the mental torment he had been suffering through whilst he thought she was a Sith. He might think she was using him or that she had betrayed him or maybe even that everything between them had been a lie, which simply wasn't true.

"Padmé," Anakin spoke said her name as though it was foreign to him. Turning her body around in her seat, she stared up at him. He was still in the same place, leaning against the wall. There were only traces of the harsh scowl that had been on his face. "Why didn't you tell me about the lost memory?" his voice leaked pain.

Padmé sent him an apologetic smile. "I had them a lot when I was younger. So the first time it happened, when the king of Trongo was killed, I just thought it was an unfortunate, one off relapse." Her eyes fell to the floor. "Naive perhaps." Breathing in deeply, she continued, "the second time, when I was supposed to be on Hoth, I didn't tell you because of how stressed you were Anakin," she lifted her eyes back up to her. "It wasn't a particularly life threatening affliction, so I thought it was best to wait until you were feeling better."

Anakin glared off to one side, his jaw tightening. "You should have told me. All of this might have been avoided," he gestured around them with a stiff arm movement.

"So you believe me then?" she asked timidly, staring at him intently.

Anakin let out a long whoosh of air, his eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm not sure," he responded. "Sith are manipulative and brilliant liars by nature." Padmé watched him closely. She could see pain lingering behind his eyes. Pain he was trying to hide. She could tell he somewhat believed her, but didn't quite trust her. Not yet at least. Padmé wasn't lying. Obi-Wan and Yoda would verify her story and then hopefully they could sort this mess up together.

Hit by a sudden wave of fatigue, she felt her muscles growing heavy and stiff. Letting out a small yawn, she shifted her weight on her seat. "You're tired?" Anakin spoke it like a fact. Padmé scrunched her face up. She didn't know if tired was exactly the best word to use because she didn't feel much like sleeping. It was more like the life and buzz had been drained from her body. "Did the doctors tell you about your prognosis?" he asked, his voice crackling in the quiet.

Padmé dipped her head, blinking owlishly. "What exactly happened whilst I was in that bacta tank?" she inquired, cocking a brow up towards him.

Anakin blew out a puff of air. "A temple doctor that was secretly working for the Separatists was slowly killing you and when he realised we were onto him he poisoned you," he explained, the corners of his lips turned downwards and a dark look flashed over his face.

Padmé pursed her lips to one side. "How did I end up on the floor?" 

Anakin went ridged. Narrowing his eyes at her once again, he said, "what do you remember?"

A cold shiver raced down her spine as she cast her mind backwards. Pain. Heat. Confusion. Her heart rate spiked. Taking a few deep breaths, she steadied her mind. "I remember coming to with you and master Yoda beside me. Then the medic came racing through and the rest is hazy."

"So, you don't remember calling out for me?" He frowned in disbelief. Padmé shook her head. Anakin rolled his shoulders back and scratched at his chin. "We think you realised something was wrong with the bacta tank and that it was killing you, so you used the force to shatter it and free yourself," he stated. "You then reached out to me with the force to ask for help. When I got there, I could tell you were dying." His voice cracked and he took a moment to readjust himself. "What you remember is Yoda and I using the force to keep you alive long enough for help to arrive."

"Thank you for that," Padmé mumbled, but she most certainly did not recall using the force. 

Anakin clenched his jaw. "I wasn't just going to let you die," he told her with a gritty voice. A deep scowl was etched into his stone features.

Padmé cocked a brow. "Even though you thought I was a Sith?" she hummed lowly.

"Even Sith have their uses," he retorted darkly. That explained why the Jedi had gone to such lengths to keep her alive. They needed something from her. From the Sith they thought she was.

Padmé dipped her head in agreement. "I suppose they do."


	23. Meeting The Menace

The interrogation room was silent. Anakin and Padmé hadn't spoken for some time. He was still standing against the wall, watching her from behind. She was leaning down on the table, head in her hands. The bright lights were giving him a headache and he found himself longing for Yoda and Obi-Wan to return. It was relieving to see Padmé up and about, not just a floating body in a tank. From her occasional sluggish movement, he could see the effects of her near death experience still had their claws sunk into her. He was conflicted on how he should feel. On one hand, a constantly sleepy Sith would be much easier to detain, on the other, an innocent woman would be hobbled for life.

Anakin's gut prickled with nerves. Padmé's story was convincing, but he wasn't sure he wanted to believe it. If it was true, then he was responsible for mortally injuring his wife several times. He had to push those thoughts from his mind as emotion swelled at a terrifying rate to meet them. That was an issue he would only let himself face if he really had to. Until then, he just had to keep thinking of her as a manipulative Sith.

Anyway, if Padmé really was completely unconscious as she had claimed she was, that begged the question: how was she doing all of the things Malice did with no awareness?

The door to the interrogation room whisked open, startling them both. Padmé stared back over she shoulder with bleary eyes. Obi-Wan stalked in, Yoda by his feet. The bearded master's face was grim, his eyes slightly wide. Yoda seemed to be impassive as always. Through the force, Anakin could sense his master's discontent and confusion. The door skidded shut and Anakin watched the masters with baited breath. "It's true," Obi-Wan sighed, eyes flicking between them. "The medical centre confirmed her appointment and her reported lack of memory at the specific dates of Malice's appearances." Anakin's heart stopped beating and his body went numb. Casting his eyes over to Padmé, he saw she didn't look surprised in the slightest. Of course she didn't, she already knew it was true. 

Lifting his hands, he ran them aggressively down his face. A mix of emotions swirled within him. He was incredibly relieved. Padmé hadn't been lying and she hadn't just married him as a tactical move for the Sith. That meant however, that there was something dark within her mind that she didn't even know about. Dread washed over him. The two Jedi masters returned to the other side of the table and Yoda jumped up to its surface. Obi-Wan slouched down into his chair. Instead of lingering behind her, Anakin shifted so that he was stood at the side of the table. This time, he could see Padmé's face. She was staring the two masters intently. "The truth came to me, when heard your story, I did," Yoda told her sitting on the glossy surface and holding her stare. "Not dealing with one person, we are, but two."

Anakin's eyes nearly budged out of his skull. Two people? Two people in one body? How was that even possible? The thought of someone using Padmé like a vehicle made his skin bristle.

Padmé furrowed her brows into a frown of confusion. "Yes, master Yoda and I discussed it on our return," Obi-Wan told them, running a hand down his beard. "We think someone else is in control of your body for the duration of your blackouts." Padmé looked skeptical, but Anakin could believe it. He had to believe it. It meant she was innocent. "When Anakin and I saw you with Sidious, it was like he was playing tug of war with your mind and the darkside was loosing its grip on you. We think that's because you were beginning to seize your body back from this Sith controlling you. The one called 'Malice'."

Anakin's brows shot up. "The same thing happened when Master Yoda and I began using the lightside to keep you alive," he commented. Padmé glanced up towards him, her eyes still clouded with disbelief.

"The medical centre also revealed that you've had these losses in memory since you were a child," Obi-Wan hummed and Padmé nodded in agreement. "If Malice has a history with Sidious, we think it could have started then but as she grew stronger he locked her inside your mind. That was until he had no choice but to release her to keep Trongo under separatist control. From there, we don't know how or why their relationship soured."

Padmé leaned back into her seat. "That's..." she let out a hefty sigh. "It sounds plausible."

"Try to reach Malice, we would like to," Yoda told her. Anakin clenched his jaw. If they could get Malice to surface, they could confirm Padmé's innocence and find out Sidious's identity in one full swoop.

"We want to try and pull Malice into control, but we need you to lower your defences first," Obi-Wan explained. Anakin leaned forwards slightly. He wanted to see behind those damned defences of hers, but he knew she probably didn't know they were there.

Padmé blinked slowly. "My defences?" she repeated.

"Yes, the shields around your mind that stop force sensitives from seeing in," Obi-Wan spoke in a voice Anakin knew well. That was his teaching voice. The one he used on Anakin when he was explaining the complex nature of the force. It was rhythmical and steady, making easy to listen to.

"Most impressive, yours are, but release them, you must," Yoda informed her.

"How?" Padmé asked, lifting her brows.

"Let go," Obi-Wan told her. "Be willing to share your thoughts and emotions with us."

"I have been," Padmé argued. "From the very moment you entered the room." Obi-Wan and Yoda traded a confused glance, but a memory sprung to Anakin's mind. A force technique the force had told him to learn during the peak of his exhaustion whilst the nightmares of Padmé tormented him. It was crafted to identify and destroy walls within someone's mind that were put there by another force user.

"I have an idea," Anakin mumbled. Reaching out, he placed two human fingers against Padmé's temple. She stared up at him with trusting eyes, going still beneath his touch. Closing his eyes over, he focused on the force. Due to the physical contact, her mind became much clearer to him. The wall was towering and large. Thrusting a little power against the walls, he noticed that they remained completely intact. Normal mental shields would have a little recoil at such an attack, but with hers there was nothing. His upper lip curled. "These walls were put here by someone else," he growled.

"Sidious, perhaps?" Obi-Wan suggested. Anakin kept his eyes closed and felt around the edges of the wall. It was like being at the bottom of a circular canyon and staring up at an impossible wall. No climbing would reach the top and no waking would take you to an edge. 

"Maybe," Yoda agreed. "Remove them, can you?" he asked Anakin.

"I think so," he responded gruffly. He used the force to coat the wall with his consciousness, searching for cracks and weak points. Padmé remained still as a statue. Obi-Wan and Yoda's intrigue drifted through the force. Finding a tiny fault in the wall, he aimed a precise and concise thrust of light-side power at it. It crumbled. What Anakin sensed beyond it made his heart stutter. It was pure light, completely untainted by darkness. It was unnaturally light, for someone who hadn't trained to be a Jedi their whole life. It exuded a caring warmth in waves. The inside of her mind was busy, buzzing with thoughts and ideas. He could also sense what she was feeling. Shock primarily, because this could be her first time feeling the force flow through her, but he also felt the haze of fatigue that settled over her brain. Anakin could have basked in her brilliance for hours, but he reluctantly pulled himself away, dropped his hands to his side and blinked his eyes open.

Padmé was glancing around like a baby seeing snow for the first time. Her eyes were wide and her brows lifted. It lit a flicker of amusement within him. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be cut off from the force for so long only to be thrown back in the deep end. "Is this what you feel all the time?" she cocked a brow up towards him. A smile curled his lips and he mutely nodded.

"Very bright, you are," Yoda rose to his feet and tottered towards her. "Time to find the darkness, it is." Padmé nodded, turning towards him and leaning her elbows down on the table. The grandmaster placed his hand on her fore head and closed over his eyes. Padmé let her own eyes drop to the table. Anakin could feel Yoda delving into her mind like a speeder in a pod race. Anakin's chest tightened. There was a chance the grandmaster might find a memory of Padmé and Anakin being closer than they should. His heart rate picked up. Luckily, Yoda didn't seem to stop or pay heed to anything bright in her mind... which was all of it. Padmé shifted slightly, no doubt incredibly uncomfortable. He knew he wouldn't like feeling of someone browsing through his mind.

Yoda's advance halted. With a tug from his light, an orb of darkness revealed itself from the within her presence. It stormed violently. Padmé grimaced as the grandmaster pulled the darkness to the front of her mind. The closer it got, the larger it became. The brightness dimmed and curled in on itself, slowly retreating away.

Padmé's face went completely slack. Her eyes flickered to an ominous Sith yellow. Obi-Wan and Anakin sent each other a wide eyed look. When Yoda took his palm off her forehead, he took a few steps back and warily watched her. The darkness had hijacked her presence, leaving it so pitch black it revolted him. He did know this new evil however, this was Malice. His hands clenched into fists when he realised he couldn't sense Padmé at all. 

They were lucky they were in the temple. It's light would drown out and conceal her darkness. Since the attempts on her life had stopped, they assumed Sidious thought she was dead. The last thing they needed was him to sense her still alive and try to kill her once more.

Malice was still zoned out, lazily blinking at the table below her. It felt like the darkness was still tying strings to the rest of her body. It was taking time for her to adjust. The first sign of consciousness was the curling of her upper lip. Anakin felt his whole body tense. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and Obi-Wan leaned forwards. Murderous intent was leaking out from within her mind.

Malice craned her head up slowly, staring deeply into Yoda's steady gaze. She cocked her head to one side and a fanged smile split her face. A cold shiver raced down Anakin's spine. "A tiny, green man with an impressively bright presence," she hummed, narrowing her eyes at Yoda. "Could it be I'm in the presence of the Grandmaster Yoda?" the sarcastic intonation she spoke with was familiar enough to startle him. It was jarring to hear it come from Padmé. Even their accents were different. Malice had a deeper, guttural voice that had more of a Nabian twang.

"Malice, I presume?" Yoda asked, cocking a brow. The Sith hummed in agreement, rigidly rising to sit up straight. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the sight of the Jedi before her.

"How lovely, to finally see the face of our enemy," Obi-Wan chirped with false cheer. Malice raised a hand and stroked it slowly over her face. It seemed she was still struggling to adjust to her new surroundings. 

"It's never been much of a pleasure to see yours, Kenobi," She retorted dryly. 

"Charming as always," Obi-Wan snorted. "Do tell, how is it you've managed to hitch a ride in the senator's body?"

"Hitch a ride?" Malice screwed up her face. "You managed to call me to consciousness, but you don't even know who I am?" her voice raised a pitch, amusement twinkling in her eyes as she drew her head back sightly. Obi-Wan squinted at her, prompting a bark of laughter from her lips. "That's almost impressive." She spoke to them as though they were children. Anakin felt anger rising within him as he watched the conversation silently.

"Know who you are, we do," Yoda informed her sternly. Anakin's brows crinkled. They did? As far as he knew, they didn't know anything about Malice or her origin. "The light to the senator's dark. The evil to her good. Senator Amidala's other half, you are." Once again, Obi-Wan and Anakin traded another wide eyed stare. Was the grandmaster telling them that Malice was part of Padmé herself? A collection of her evil and darkness?

"Clever boy," Malice purred. "I suppose you are the grandmaster for a reason." Catching sight of the two other jedis' bewildered expressions, another cruel smile curled her lips. "You are close to the truth. The senator and I are two halves of the same whole." Anakin's brows lifted. That made sense why Padmé was so pure and so bright and Malice so evil and dark. They were the light and dark of one person's mind that had been split into two.

"Cut you in half, who was it?" Yoda hummed, leaning towards her. The smile on her face faltered just a little. "Sidious?"

Malice rolled her eyes. "Sidious might be a cunning little snake, but he doesn't have that kind of creativity," she grumbled. Anakin felt confusion muddling his mind. If it wasn't Sidious that split them, then who?

"How, know of this, you do, but not the senator?" Yoda asked, stepping towards her. 

Once more, that evil grin split her lips. It made Anakin's blood boil. "You can't expect a girl to reveal all her secrets," she replied in a mocking, high pitched voice.

"I'd hardly call you a girl," Anakin grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring daggers at Malice.

Malice turned her head up to meet him, still obviously amused. "How rude, Skywalker." Anakin could sense she caught herself before she could say something more. He narrowed his eyes, daring her to spit it out, but she flicked her sights away from him and back down to Yoda. "What exactly is it you want from me?" She asked, her top lip curling.

"The identity of Darth Sidious," Yoda responded, staring at her unblinkingly.

Malice hummed beneath her breath, carefully regarding them with a levelled glare. "Why would I tell you?" She spoke calmly, this time with minimal sardonicism.

"We know you and Sidious don't get along," Obi-Wan admitted sitting back into his chair once more. "And it was him that tried to have you killed whilst you were in the bacta tank." 

"Hardly surprising," Malice drawled. "We've hated each other for a long time." Anakin felt his stomach tighten when he realised it must have been Malice that broke loose from the bacta tank and her that had called on him for help. He jutted his jaw to one side. He could have sworn in was Padmé that had tugged on his mind, not Malice. Even though he was disturbed by the fact he had connected with a Sith, he was also glad. If she hadn't reached out, then Padmé would have died with her.

"Will you tell us who he is?" Anakin grumbled.

"No," she replied firmly. "It's far too amusing watching you swinging blindly into the dark," she chuckled. Casting her eyes across all three Jedi, she sucked on her cheeks. "He has you wrapped so tightly around his little finger that you probably wouldn't even believe me anyway."

"Then no more use for you, we have," Yoda tutted. "Return the senator to control, we will."

"Good," Malice sneered. "I might spontaneously combust if I have sit in this light any longer." Anakin knew she was talking about the burning brightness of the force that reverberated throughout the entire temple. For a dark side user, he supposed it would be pretty overwhelming.

Yoda grumbled beneath his breath and lifted a hand towards her. Malice leered down at him, but made no move to stop him as he dragged Padmé's mind to the surface. In fact, she even aided him a little, opening her mind to allow him more access. Her face became blank and her glassy eyes dimmed back to a honey brow. The darkness vanished and the light blossomed within. Padmé blinked slowly. Twitchy movement returning to her body. Eventually she glanced around and rolled her shoulders. Staring between the three of them, she raised her brows. "Well? Did you get what you need?" she asked.

"Not quite," Anakin sighed. "She refused to help." Padmé sent them an apologetic smile. He could sense she was still a little doubtful that there was a Sith buried in her mind, but she was trying to put her complete faith in them. Anakin’s gut clenched. She still trusted them so faithfully after he had dragged her so close to death so many times. There was no denying the truth now. Padmé was innocent. Anakin’s stomach went tight. He couldn’t fight away his guilt with reason anymore. It crashed down on him like tsunami. He had no hope against its sheer, unrelenting power and was left nothing more than a corpse floating in its choppy waters.

"We might not need Malice anyway," Obi-Wan stroked his beard and narrowed his eyes. "Senator, you've been having theses blackouts for a long time, yes?" he asked. Padmé dipped her head. "Malice revealed that both she and Sidious have hated each other for many years." Leaning forwards he let out a long sigh. All eyes were in him. "We also know that Sidious is an influential member of the senate." Anakin's eyes widened, but Yoda's face remained blank. That was supposed to be information kept quiet. Padmé's brows lifted high. "Is there any senator you have known since you were young that has gained a lot of power within the republic?"

The muscles in Padmé's jaw tightened. "Chancellor Palpatine," she spoke with no hesitation. Anakin's gut sank. All the evidence may have pointed the Chancellor as the missing link, but Anakin knew he was a good man. Surely he was? He had always been there for Anakin when the Jedi were not. Disbelief coursed through him, followed by a stinging dose of betrayal.

"Found our Sith Master, it seems we have," Yoda hummed, scratching at his chin.


	24. Joint Trust

Anakin led Padmé through the tall, marble corridors of the temple. Yoda and Obi-Wan had gone to the council chamber to call an emergency meeting and figure out the best course of action. Padmé could feel Anakin's mind was still buzzing with uncertainty. They didn't pass many people, but those they did seemed to pay them little attention. Daylight streamed in the slitted windows. Their footsteps echoed around them. They were headed to the detention block of the temple. The Jedi had decided to keep Padmé in a containment cell for the safety of others and herself. At least until they figured out a way to prevent Malice from seizing control and sneaking out into the city when they weren't paying attention.

It felt like Malice had ran a marathon in her body. It was as though she had weights attached to her limbs. It was taking a significant amount of effort to keep on moving. Even still, Padmé was walking just a step behind Anakin. His face was warped into a fierce scowl. She knew today must have been an emotional rollercoaster for him. To find out she wasn't a Sith, only to be told she was Malice's other half and then realise that the man he trusted like a father was Darth Sidious. She knew it was best to give him a moment to digest his feelings before speaking to him. So throughout their little walk, she let the force flow through her like a stream. It amazed her, all the millions of bright little lives spread all across the planet. Emotions drafted off people like scents. The more she felt, the easier it was to recognise them. The universe had burst into a kaleidoscope of colours she didn't even known existed. Every time she felt something new, it caught her attention and her breath.

Close by, a life evaporated into the force. All around it were clouds of wobbling grief. Padmé's heart sank a little as she stared off in the direction she sensed it. "You'll learn to tune it out," Anakin told her gruffly. She turned to look at him. He was staring back towards her. Their eyes met for a moment. She could see the pain and confusion behind his glassy lenses.

"Okay," she mumbled softly, staring at him from behind. Padmé felt that some of the turbulence in his mind had eased. That was good at least. "Are you alright?" she whispered quietly to him, even though there was no one else in sight.

"Yes," he dipped his head, glancing back towards her. Padmé held his stare, cocking a brow. Anakin sighed and turned away from her. "The Chancellor is a good man. I'm struggling to believe he really is Sidious."

Padmé paused. She understood his disbelief. He had woken up that day thinking she was evil after all. Maybe Sidious had the same affliction as she did. Somehow, she doubted that. From the way her blood boiled at the mere thought of Palpatine, she realised it was very plausible he was a Sith. "I didn't quite believe it myself," she hummed. "But do you know what I've just realised," he fell back a few steps and walked by her side, staring down at her curiously. "I hate Palpatine with every bone in my body." Anakin looked at her as though she'd stomped on his toes. "After one of my more recent lapses in memory, I just despised him and I couldn't figure out why," she elaborated. Anakin's face lifted with shock as he began to understand what she was telling him. "Looking back, I don't think it is me that hates him, it must be Malice."

"An emotion so strong, it transcends the divide in your mind," he let out a huffing sigh. "It's possible... and it aligns with the theory that Sidious is Palpatine." He let out a throaty groan and ran his hands over his face.

"Im sorry, Anakin," Padmé murmured. "He has betrayed us all, but I know you respect him."

"Not any more," he growled, dropping his arms to his sides. A dark look warped his face and his hands clenched tightly. Padmé felt a dark cloud of rage rise around him. It sent a cold shiver down her spine. "It's because of him that thousands have been lost to this pointless war," he threw his arms up into the air. 

"The Jedi will stop him," Padmé told him confidently. "This will be over before you know it." In the past, she wouldn't have hesitated to pull him into a tight hug and hold him until he calmed, but there was a strange gap between them. One she couldn't get to the bottom of. It was probably to do with the fact she was half Sith. Did he resent that about her? Perhaps he was wary to let her close again because of his anger at Malice. Maybe he was still angry she hadn't told him about her blackouts earlier.

"He will pay for his crimes," Anakin told her firmly with a hint of aggression. "We'll make sure of that."

They turned into a barren, metallic hallway. It was compact, but it allowed them to maintain walking side by side. Footsteps echoed all around them. Bright lights shone down on them. Padmé recognised it from her journey to the interrogation room. There wasn't much further to go. That was good, because she could feel her feet beginning to drag.

"Padmé," he sighed and she stared up at him. He was glancing down at the floor. Some of his anger had mellowed out, but it was still lingering around him like a thin smog. "I'm sorry for ever believing you were a Sith."

"Don't apologise," Padmé scolded him and his startled eyes flicked towards her. "It would have been silly of you not to believe it with all the evidence against me." He looked back down at the floor like a sorrowful child. He already knew this, she could tell he did, but evidently it wasn't easing his guilt. "If you keep looking back, you'll trip up on what's right before you." She wrapped her arms around herself. "You weren't completely wrong either."

"We were wrong," Anakin argued, halting in his steps and turning to face her. Padmé stopped in her tracks and peered over at him with a furrowed brow. He placed two heavy hands on her shoulders. "You're a completely different entity to Malice. You're pure light. That's the opposite of a Sith." Sucking in sharply, he stared deeply into her eyes. "You're innocent in this and it isn't fair you've had to suffer through so much pain." A ghost of upset danced across his eyes.

"Anakin," she placed a hand on his human forearm. "Pain is only temporary, and I'm glad I went through it." His brows shot up. "If I hadn't, then we might never have discovered Malice and she'd be free to reign terror on the galaxy." He went still, the corners of his lips tugging down. Blowing out a soft breath, she placed her hand on his sides and pulled him into a tight hug. He went ridged. Padmé's stomach sank. Thinking she'd overstepped her boundaries, she moved to push herself away but he coiled his arms tightly around her back and pressed her against his himself. She could feel his heart pounding. He rested his chin on her head as she laid her own on his chest. Images of her own face, bloodied and twisted in pain drifted into her mind, but they weren't her memories. They were Anakin's, and he was drowning in helplessness. "It's in the past now, Ani," she whispered. She tried hard to stifle the fear and pain that sprung to her mind, but there was no hiding the tremor that shook her body. For a moment, she could feel the scaffolding grating against her ribs. Choking on the hot blood rising in her throat, her lungs seizing in desperation to get any air past it. Every movement brought pain beyond belief. 

Anakin squeezed her tighter and she felt warm droplets of water splashing on the crown of her head. It shocked her. He never cried. Tears of her own brimmed her eyes. He was torn to pieces. Seeing her so close to death had scarred him deeply, and she hated that. The worst of it was, she could sense his guilt was pulling him under like quicksand. He was completely lost to its power. A few tears rolled down her cheeks and she held him tighter. "It wasn't your fault, Ani. You didn't know," her voice was soft and trembling. 

More warmth splashed into her hair. Her words hit his mountain of guilt and rolled harmlessly off the side. He pulled in a sharp, shaky breath. This wasn't a conversation he was ready to have just yet. If he was going to let go of his guilt, he needed to be willing to and that was a battle he would have to fight on his own. Padmé would be there when he needed her, but he required time first. Time to digest. They both did. If she was honest, she would admit that the reality of their situation hadn't hit her yet. She'd only had to deal with it for less than a day and she'd had his support. Anakin however, had been stewing in his misery and horror, alone, for weeks. 

Burrowing her face into his chest, she felt the fear she’d been suppressing rising within her. The terror of waking up completely alone after spending so much time in a bacta and not even knowing why. The shock that she could go to prison for a crime she didn’t commit. The horror of seeing her husband so certain she was evil incarnate. Tears streamed from her eyes and a quiet sob escaped her lips. Anakin's breathing was ragged. Lifting his human hand, he cupped the back of her head and burrowed his fingers into her hair. Her scalp was growing wetter and wetter. She rubbed gentle circles on his back. They stayed completely intertwined for several minutes. She could feel him, that normally strong, bright presence of his. He was like a terrified, lost child that had fallen victim to his own guilt. 

After several minutes spent intertwined, Padmé was the first one to collect herself. Sniffling, she pulled her mind out its haze of sorrow. Closing her eyes over, she listened to Anakin's heart. Still tracing circles on his back, she evened out her breathing. Slowly, he began to settle. The tears came less frequently and the heavy breaths shallowed. 

With a start, she suddenly remembered where they were. She'd been so lost in emotion that she'd forgotten they were still in the heart of the Jedi temple. Peeling herself away from his chest, she wiped the tears from her face glanced around them. She blew out a breath of relief. They were still completely alone. Anakin placed his hands on her hips and stared down at her with watery eyes. Small wrinkles formed between his brows. His eyes were red and his cheeks glistened. Padmé grasped at his upper arm. "We should go," she told him softly, nodding down the corridor.

Anakin shook his head and his chin trembled. "I don't want to leave you," his voice cracked. A tear rolled down his cheek.

Padmé lifted a hand and cupped his jaw. She brushed away his tear with a gentle swipe of her thumb. "I'm not going anywhere," she told him with tender firmness. "I promise." Anakin leaned into her hand. 

"Good," he murmured, reaching up and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I don't think I could cope if you vanished again." Sliding her hand around to the back of his neck, she drew him down and gave him a gentle kiss. Pulling away, they traded sad smiles and released each other. Anakin sniffled and wiped away the rest of his tears with the back of his hand. Padmé pulled her hair over her shoulders and raked her fingers through her damp roots. In one twisting motion, she folded her hair into a tight updo. 

Looking between them, the only indication of their upset was the slight red puffiness to their eyes. Something the droids manning the jail cells would not notice.


	25. Withdrawal

Mace Windu wasn't certain what he expected when confronting Palpatine, but it certainly wasn't a swirling tycoon of fury. In moments, it was only Windu and Yoda left alive of the small group of Jedi masters he had taken to confront him. Their comrades lay in chunks all across the scarlet floor, but there was no time to grieve them. If they felt sorrow for their fellow masters for even a moment, they would end up in the same position.

The rancid stench of charred flesh filled the air of Sidious's office. Bright daylight streamed in his shattered windows.   
Windu and Yoda slowly circled around the Sith master. Glass crunched beneath their feet. Lightsabers hummed in their hands. The sith let out nauseating waves of dark force power. His presence was that darkest stain Windu had ever felt. "Now, how did you figure it out?" Sidious sneered, peering between them.

"I don't think you're in the position to be asking questions," Windu snapped, clenching his hilt tighter. The purple blade waved steadily in front of his eyes. After learning the truth, the council had immediately opted for action.

"Don't tell me that snake of a Senator is still alive," he curled his upper lip, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. Windu clenched his jaw. It was Senator Amidala that had given them the information they needed to figure out who the Chancellor really was. Telling him she was still alive would endanger her life. The last thing she needed was an angry Sith Lord hunting her down. Not that he would make it out of this room alive.

"Too much confidence in your abilities, you have," Yoda tutted, stepping towards the Sidious. "Your downfall, it was."

All three of them launched into a fierce sabre fight. They danced around the room in a whirlwind of coloured blades. Mace felt the force shifting through him, aiding his movements and motions. They veered dangerously close to the open window. Sidious flicked his fingers and a barrage of blinding lightning flew towards them. Lifting their lightsabers, Yoda and Windu caught the brunt of the attack with their blades. Mace's arms strained in effort. Another wave of power, caused him to step back. The lightning crackled to a stop. As the Jedi recovered their balance, Sidious dove out of the window. 

Both Jedi raced over to the window and peered out. The horrible black spot that was Sidious had vanished within the force and before their eyes. They couldn't make out any falling form. Clenching his jaw, Mace let out a deep sigh and sheathed his lightsaber. Traffic whizzed by below them. The Sith had escaped.

*

Sidious was furious. His blood boiled in his veins. With his hood pulled down towards his nose, he crept through a dank, dingy alleyway. His long robes swooshed about his feet. A revolting smell of decay and sewage burned in his nose and nipped at his eyes. No sunlight reached into the depths of the alley. Garbage was littered all over the floor. There wasn't a living creature in sight. His heart was beating fast. It had been mere moments since he had dropped out of his office window. If he wanted to keep all he had worked for in the last few decades, he was going to have to act fast.

Coming to a halt, he pulled a holo communicator out from within his robes. Pressing a few buttons, an image burst to life in front if him. It was the shimmering, blue holo of Commander Cody. "Supreme Chancellor," the clone raised his hand into a salute.

"Execute order sixty-six," Palpatine spat, his nose crinkling. He gripped the device so tightly that ropes of anger bulged from the back of his age-speckled hand.

"Yes, sir," the clone saluted and his hologram dissolved into the air. Gritting his teeth, he continued his trek through the alley way. This was not how he wanted things to turn out. It was still a few months too early to execute his plan, but there was little he could do about it. Sidious would have to forfeit turning Anakin to the dark side if he wanted any chance of domination. With the Jedi in chaos because of the clones’ betrayal, he would have time to seize the public's favour, but he had to do it before the Jedi could raise the alarm or reveal his true nature. The Jedi were still largely mistrusted. If he was to paint himself the victim of their cruelty, he would still be able to rise to Emperor.

As for Malice, it was clear she was still alive. How else could the Jedi have figured out his true identity? Ducking into a street that buzzed with people, he kept his head low as an enforcement droid blew past him. Once he had secured his empire, her betrayal would mean nothing. He would be untouchable. If she did come after him, he would simply kill her. There was no way half of a person could ever pose any threat to him. Not even with the help of the Jedi.

*

Anakin and Padmé sat facing each other, their legs crossed into baskets atop two circular pouffes. The meditation room was gloomy and dark. Only slits of light could stream in through the blinds. A floral fragrance drifted through the air. If Anakin were to lie flat on the floor, both his feet and his head would have been touching opposite walls. There was very little in the way of furnishings, aside from the two, tall plants that curled in on themselves and protruded spikey leaves.  
Padmé's presence was blindingly bright, but intensely soothing. It sent out waves of relaxation that tingled in his head and loosened the muscles in his body. Being around her felt like closing your eyes over and turning your head towards the sun so it could plant gentle kisses of heat on your skin.

As much as Anakin enjoyed her presence, he knew it would be a lot safer for her if she learned how to construct her own mental shields. As it was, he could just about make out every single one of her thoughts and feelings. That was a dangerous thing, in a temple filled with highly trained force sensitives. Obi-Wan had agreed with Anakin's observation, giving him permission to teach Padmé the basics of defending her mind through the force.

Most people that grow up force sensitive naturally develop shields. Padmé however, grew up with restricted access to the force and the constant safety of those impenetrable walls that had been placed in her mind. As a result, she never had the need to craft defences. It angered him, to think someone had purposely cut her off from the force and given Malice free reign. It was just like blinding her, removing one of her most important senses. He had no idea how she'd adapted and coped, but it must have happened when she was really young. Perhaps she never actually learned what the force felt like before she was split. 

No matter what, Anakin would be here to help and guide her in the ways of the force. Maybe one day they'd figure out a way to keep Malice locked up for good. Perhaps they could craft her a prison in Padmé's mind and chain her down, never to be freed again. That though relieved him a little. If the Sith was out of the picture, Padmé would have complete control over her body once more with no fear of someone hijacking it. Also, Anakin would never have to worry about her vanishing with no explanation again.

At the current moment, they were meditating. Anakin always found it was easiest to build strong shields when the mind was quiet. It was like building a match box around a single match instead of around hundreds.

Anakin gazed at Padmé's face. Her eyes were closed over, her brows taught with concentration. A beam of light cradled the soft curve of her cheek. With his eyes, he traced the soft contours of her lips and nose. For the first time in a long time, a healthy flush of colour blushed her face. It was a sight he wanted to savour. She had been liberated from the prison clothes and given one of her own catsuits. It was the white one she wore when she was on senatorial missions. The same one she wore to Geonosis. Seeing her in it brought him crashing back to the nineteen year old version of himself that had been infatuated with her every breath. It made his heart rate pick up and his chest swell with love.

The corners of her pink lips tugged upwards. "You're making it very hard to concentrate," she chuckled, her teeth gleaming in the light. Heat spread across his features, a wry grin twisting his lips. Perhaps the only downside to her new connection to the force was that he couldn’t hide anything from her anymore. Although, it wasn't exactly like he ever could in the first place. Somehow, she'd always known what he was feeling better than he did.

"You're making hard for me to concentrate," he mumbled in response. 

Padmé peeled open an eye and cast him a playful grin. "Weren't you supposed to be teaching me to make mental shields?" She cocked a brow. "Yours don't seem to be very effective."

Anakin reared back slightly, pulling his chin into his neck. "It's harder to hide things from you because we're quite deeply connected." That was an understatement. "I don’t want to conceal anything from you any-" he halted mid explanation when she let out a giggle. Anakin pursed his lips. Great, it seemed she'd found a new way to tease him. Narrowing his eyes, he jutted his jaw to one side. "I'm sorry your face was distracting me, shall we get back to the lesson?" Padmé wrestled the smile from her face and nodded. "To build the shields, you just need to imagine raising walls around your mind and manipulate the force to do it," he explained, closing his eyes over and slipping into the silky folds of the force.

Padmé was slower to allow the force full access to her mind. When she did, he could feel her delicately wrapping it around her mind. Soon enough, her thoughts became a lot harder to detect and her emotions were smothered. Even her brilliant presence mellowed out. Although it saddened him, his heart twitched with pride. He knew her mind would always be open to him anyway, just as his was to her. 

A sudden rush of horror and fear erupted at the front of the temple. Anakin's eyes snapped open and he stood to his feet, turning to face in the direction of the disturbance. His heart picked up pace as he felt lives becoming one with the force. His wrist communicator began beeping an alert. Lifting it to his face, he answered the transmission. "Anakin, the temple is under attack by clones. Get to the grand entrance now," Obi-Wan's voice barked.

"On my way," Anakin responded with a growl, ending the transmission. Dropping his hand to his side, he turned to look at Padmé. She was still seated but her eyes were wide and her jaw slack as she stared in the direction of the attack. "Stay here, I'll come back when it's safe," he told her. Trusting eyes landed on him. The moment she nodded, he raced out of the room and began tearing through the temple. The first question on his mind: why were the clones attacking?


	26. Temple Run

Padmé cradled her knees up to her chest. Her heart was hammering. Angry shouts and loud blasts reverberated through the corridor just beyond the door. She sat in the gloom of the meditation room. Although she had never been fond of getting stuck in violent situations, with the force open to her it was an entirely different story. Padmé could feel the terror of the younglings as they hid deep within the heart of the temple. She could feel the horror of the Jedi that were hit with blaster bolts as their lives faded into the force. She could feel the pain and betrayal of all those fighting against men they thought allies. It was coming from all around, completely overwhelming her. She just long for it all to stop. She wanted to be blind to the force once more. 

Cradling her legs closer, she squeezed her eyes shut. Why were the cones attacking? It didn't make any sense. They served on the same side of the war as the Jedi did. Anguish rippled through the air as Jedi were forced to kill those they had trusted their lives with. Padmé pressed her knees into her eyes and tried to calm her shaky breath. How could Anakin fight so well on the battlefield when this was what he felt the whole time?

Part of Padmé ached to go out and help, but she knew better. Every time her life had been endangered in the last month, the Sith within had taken over. If she got involved, she ran the risk that Malice would seize control and another enemy was the last thing the Jedi needed. So instead, she had to sit and wait. 

Time ticked on. A tidal wave of fear and grief was slamming down on the temple. Screams filled the air. More and more lives were evaporating away. Some ended in a flash, other ended painfully slowly. Padmé tried to focus on anything but the emotions, but they dominated her senses like a floodlight inches from her face. 

The door to the meditation room slid open, making her jolt. Padmé's head snapped up. A clone trooper leaned into the doorway. "One in here!" he shouted, lifting his gun to aim at her. She opened her mouth to protest, but it was too late. A blaster bolt was firing towards her.

Malice burst into control, throwing herself to the floor as the bolt went sailing overhead. Acting on instinct alone, she jumped up to her feet and raised a palm. The dark side pooled within her. When she clenched her fist, the troopers helmet caved inwards and streams of blood spurted out from underneath it. Not giving him a second glance, she stepped out the open door and into the hallway beyond. It was long and narrow. A few troopers were dipping in and out of doorways, firing their guns. Once again, Malice used the force to crush their skulls instantly. Their bodies clattered noisily to the floor. 

Sucking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes over. The force was lit with dark chaos. Pain and misery were drowning out the white light of the temple. The corners of her lips perked upwards and thrills of exhilaration raced over her skin. The dark side was twisting its way into the heart of the building. Opening her eyes, she began stalking away from the meditation room. Now that the Jedi were occupied with an obvious clone invasion, no doubt Sidious's handiwork, she had the perfect opportunity to escape. The only issue was, she had no idea how to get out this maze of a building.

*

Anakin was tearing through clones like they were little more than B1 battle droids and it was pulling him apart internally. With each man he slashed down, he remembered a time one of them had saved his life. With every strike, he felt a part of himself crumble with in. With every blow, he grew more hesitant to kill another. Yet no clone spared a second thought before firing at him with vicious intent. Confusion mingled with betrayal. Why were they doing this? They were brothers in arms.

Anakin could see flashes of other blue lightsabers as he fought through the mob of clones that crowded a huge marble hallway. By his side, Obi-Wan battled diligently. The master's face was warped into a scowl, pain lingering in his eyes. It seemed he was just as torn by the betrayal. In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of a tiny green lightsaber and a vibrant purple blade plunging into the fight.

It didn't take long until he found his rhythm of batting away blaster bolts and slicing through clone armour. The force around him was like a sea at storm. Thick clouds of the dark side thundered all around him. It was hazing his senses. Eventually, he managed to numb his mind to his aching emotions. He moved like a robot, not stopping to think of the lives he was taking. If he did, he wasn't sure he would be able to will himself to start fighting again.

Before long, it was only Jedi left standing. As Anakin cast his eyes over the hundreds of fallen clones and Jedi, there was no victory. No satisfaction. All he saw were the bodies of old friends. Gritting his teeth, he clambered across the floor towards Obi-Wan, his chest puffing and heart pounding. The pair traded a pained glance. "I can't believe this," Obi-Wan murmured, wide eyes scanning the carnage before him. "What would make them turn on us like this?"

Anakin blew out a rush of air and stared around at the fallen soldiers. "I don't know..." Anakin murmured. "The last time a clone killed a Jedi, it was because his inhibitor chip was fau-" he froze, his eyes going wide. The desperate pleas of a deranged, dying clone reached his ears. Fives. Obi-Wan peered at him with curious caution. "I know why this happened," Anakin clenched a fist as anger bubbled inside of him. "You said that Sidious had a hand in the creation of the clone army initially, yes?" Obi-Wan nodded hesitantly. "One of my troopers went rogue and executed a Jedi all because the inhibitor chip in his brain malfunctioned. One of his friends, fives, also went off the wire and manually removed his chip. He swore that the chips were going to be used to kill and betray the Jedi..." Anakin let out a sigh and ran a hand down his face. "At the time I just thought his lack of an inhibitor chip had driven him insane." A pained wheeze escaped his lips. Obi-Wan places a firm hand on Anakin's shoulder. 

"A very plausible idea, that is," Yoda spoke. Anakin peered over his shoulder to see the grandmaster and Windu clambering over bodies towards them. "Since escape, Sidious did."

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan hummed, lifting a hand to stroke at his beard.

"The Chancellor has declared the Jedi traitors of the republic and promoted himself to the position of Emperor," Windu grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and standing in front of the two younger Jedi. "He claimed we attempted to murder him in his office and he has the full public sway." Anger rose like hot magma within Anakin. The traitorous snake. He was going to pay for all this senseless slaughter.

"Flee from Coruscant, we must," Yoda hummed, staring up at them with haunted eyes. "For now, lost, the battle is."

"We are going to the hangar and help the other Jedi escape," Windu told them. Turning to Anakin he added, "bring the senator, it is still our responsibility to ensure her darkness never escapes into the galaxy."

Anakin's blood ran cold. Padmé. He'd left her in the meditation room. "I'll retrieve her. Send me the coordinates of our meet up point," he told them, slowly backing down the corridor. Windu nodded. 

"I'll go The the archives and send out a beacon that will warn away any surviving Jedi," Obi-Wan told them. Yoda hummed in agreement. With that, all of the Jedi broke out into a run and raced in different directions throughout the temple.


	27. Responsibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter! The sequel will be up tomorrow, this just felt like the best place to break the story into two.

As Anakin zipped through the hallways, he found his heart sinking. Black, smouldering marks marred the marble flooring. He had to weave through masses of dead bodies. The very sight made him nauseous to his stomach. The putrid stench of charred flesh burned in the air. The miasma of death lingered all around. Keeping his head down, he tried to focus on locating Padmé. Her light wasn't painfully obvious like it should be, sending panic rushing down him like a mouthful of icy water. 

Skidding to a halt before the room he had last seen her, he didn't need to go in to know she wasn't there. All along the corridor were the bodies of troopers that had their helmets crushed inwards like the very air had constricted around their heads. It chilled him to the bone. A tremor began rattling his frame. Malice was loose. If she broke out into the city, there was a very real chance Anakin might never see Padmé again.

Glancing around, he followed the trail of destruction and pools of inky blood on the floor. Reaching out with the force, he scanned desperately for Malice and Padmé. The senator was undetectable, but he caught the faintest glimmer of the sith's darkness. Gritting his teeth, he pelted towards her, concealing his own presence in the force. His footsteps thundered around him. His arms swung aggressively by his sides. Not once did he stop to look at the bloodied bodies of the Jedi and the troopers around him. All his mind could focus on was getting to her.

The walls and windows around him became nothing but streaks of colour. Desperation kept him moving. He was drawing closer and closer to the darkness. His heart thumped against his rib cage. Every inch of him was buzzing with the force as he used it to propel himself faster and faster. He had to go faster. Rounding a corner, he saw her skidding to a halt just before him but he had accumulated too much speed to stop. The pair collided with a harsh thud, sending them both plummeting to the hard floor. Pain pulsed through him, the air was knocked clean from his lungs. For a moment, the world span around him. His body landed hard on the cold ground.

Not even taking a moment to reorient himself, he staggered back up to his feet and whipped out his weapon. Malice dragged herself to her feet, an uneasy glare rested on him. Two yellow eyes leered at him. "Skywalker," she hissed. A sneer curled her lips. It was an expression that looked sorely misplaced on Padmé's face. In one of her hands was the silvery hilt of a lightsaber. Just as he had, she ignited its sapphire blade. Anakin narrowed his eyes. She had no doubt scavenged it from a dead body. Her using it desecrated the legacy its rightful owner had imprinted on it.

"Just give up, Malice," he snapped, readying his blade. "You won't win." The corridor around them was long and vast. Huge marble columns stretched to the ceiling. Impossibly tall windows let in the dusky streams of orangey lighting. There weren't many bodies in this grand hallway, just a few clones.

"I might not need to," she purred, sending him a fanged smile and lifting her blade to her throat. Anakin went completely ridged, his breath caught in his lungs. "I know if you catch me I'll probably be locked in the Senator's mind until we meet death," she growled, her smile widening at his horror. "I might as well just kill us now."

"No!" Anakin shouted, lurching forwards a step and reaching his hand out.

"I never said I would," Malice chuckled humourlessly, dropping the blade from her neck and spinning it in her grip. His brows shot up and anger erupted within him. So this was her game? To keep him on edge their whole fight? To warn him that if she saw no way out, she might just kill them both. 

Anakin lifted himself to his full height and the pair slowly began to circle one another. "You won't," he snapped. "If you were petty like that you would have let yourself die on the floor after you broke out of that bacta tank." Her smile dropped a little and large wrinkles formed over the bridge of her nose. "But you called out to me." 

"Don't flatter yourself," she nipped. Keeping low to the ground, she kept her blade angled out in front of her. "I know about your connection with the Senator. I can feel it." Her features crinkled in disgust. "I knew you wouldn't let her die." Anakin's eyes narrowed. So she'd been playing him all along. Of course she had, she was a Sith. It made him wonder how much she really knew. Had she waited until Padmé was alone and the Jedi occupied before taking control? Could she just take control whenever she felt like it? Was she sentient when it was Padmé steering? Anakin pressed his lips into a thin line. These were questions she would never answer.

With a snarl, he rushed at her and swung his blade hard. Lifting her own, she deflected it harmlessly away from herself. They entered into a violent dance of locking blades and dodging strikes. Where Anakin was all about power and speed, Malice preferred trickery and accuracy. None of his blows landed directly, they simply slipped off the shaft of her blade like both weapons had been over greased. It riled the fury within him to impossible heights, which scared him. The last thing he wanted to do was seriously hurt Padmé because the Sith had been taunting him. Feinting a strike to his legs, the moment he moved his sabre down to block, she thrust a fist into his face.

Anakin staggered back a few steps, his nose throbbing and his jaw aching. Blinking the haze from his eyes, he ducked just in time as a strike flew over his head. Reaching out with the force, he shoved a wave of power towards her. Malice was caught off guard and went sailing up into the air, crashing through one of the tall windows. Anakin's heart leapt into his throat. With no thought, he jumped into the air and leapt after her.

There wasn't much of a drop beyond the window. Anakin landed on soft soil with a thud. A cavernous room opened up before him. Huge rows of crops stretched its entire length. Tall, green plants grew from mounds in the soil, reaching far above his head and blocking out the intense light from above. They were organised in militant rows which made it difficult to see through them. Beside each mound, a stream of water trickled by. Malice was nowhere to be seen in the maze of greenery. His heart raced in his chest as he pushed through the rows of crops. His mind was terrifying him. What if Malice had escaped? What if he couldn't find her?

Blocking out the thoughts, he went still and closed his eyes over. Drawing on the force, he used it to sharpen his senses. Malice's darkness couldn't be felt. Anakin fought to steady his buzzing mind. The trickling of the stream. The sweet smell of the leaves. The dense humidity of the air. A rustle. His eyes shot open. Without a second thought, he raced towards the sound with his lightsaber still humming in his hand. There was more rustling as someone else was running through the crops ahead of him. Shoving the long, thin stalks aside, he used the force to push himself forwards. Thrusting out a palm, he sent a wave of power forwards. A huge portion of the plant life before him was flattened, revealing Malice. The Sith was straining against his blow, her arms raised over her face. A tiny amount of relief settled within him at the sight of her. Intense light bore down on top of him.

Malice let out a grumble and reignited her stolen lightsaber, keeping it between her and him. Anakin approached slowly, his grip on his lightsaber was deathly tight. "You're annoyingly persistent," Malice grumbled raising her blade. "I guess I will just have to kill you." Danger glinted in her eyes. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"You can try," he goaded her back. Once again, they descended into a furious fight. Lightsabers were ripping through the air. The plants crunched beneath their feet and they had to constantly hop over running streams. The room around dissolved into a hazy blur of green and brown. All he focus on was her. The way she moved like she was boneless. How misplaced those yellow eyes looked on her face.

Anakin finally managed to land a hard blow on her sabre, knocking it to the side. His instincts told him to lunge forwards, but he caught sight Malice's face warped into a scowl. For a moment, all he could see was Padmé and he hesitated. That was all Malice needed. She whipped her blade around in a streak of blue and severed his robotic arm at the wrist. There was no time for him to react as she kicked him hard in the chest and sent him flying backwards. He landed on his back with a harsh thud. Everything was spinning and a high pitched wail rang in his ears. Before he could collect himself, he felt a nipping burn at his neck and saw glowing blue at the bottom of his vision. Craning his head up, he saw Malice kneeling over him, a knee on each side of his hip and an arm reaching out to hold a sabre to his neck. His blood ran cold.

Anakin was tempted to squeeze his eyes shut and wait for the killing blow, but he couldn't look away from those horrid yellow eyes. She glowered down at him, locks of hair falling about her face. His whole body went tense as he prepared for pain, but it never came. "What are you waiting for," Anakin hissed. Was she just trying to torture him? He was about to start scanning around himself for his lightsaber, but Malice's expression shifted and caught his attention. The scowl she wore softened and her shoulders drooped slightly. 

Confusion rose within him, but a quick prod at the force told him what was happening. Deep cracks ran along her defences and he could sense Padmé lingering close to the surface of the Sith's mind. Anakin's heart thundered in his ears. He closed his eyes over and submersed himself into the light side. Like a serpent, he struck. Sliding behind her walls he dug himself into the depths of her mind. Malice stiffened with a growl, but he didn't relent. He reached out desperately to the little ball of light trapped within her mind. Padmé reached back and they clicked together like interlocking hands. Anakin pulled at her hard, dragging her towards the surface. Malice stood no chance. The darkness was replaced completely with light.

Anakin opened his eyes just in time as her whole body slumped forwards onto his chest. Her head hung limply over his shoulder. It seemed in his desperation pull Padmé out, he had accidentally knocked her out cold. Relief washed over him like cold water on a burning limb. Lifting his arms beneath hers, he wrapped them tightly around her chest. He burrowed his head into the warm crook of her neck. Taking in deep breaths, he tried to calm his racing heart. Her sweet scent washed over him, breaking the dams of the emotion her was holding back. Tears pricked his eyes. A tremble shook his body. Horror and fear rattled him from within. In his mind, he just kept reminding himself that it was okay. Padmé was still here. He stopped Malice from taking her. She was safe.

*

Padmé blinked open groggy eyes. A mild pain ached in the back of her neck. She was sitting in a high backed chair, her head lolling forwards. The space she found herself in was small, but not cramped and the arms of her chair were resting against a sturdy wall on either side. The air around her was warm and stroked gently at her skin. When she lifted her head, her whole skeleton groaned like a poorly oiled door. A huge, doming glass viewport arched high above her head and stretched down before her. Blue light streaked by. The cockpit of the ship let out a deep, basey hum. Just in front of her knees was the tall back of another seat. There was no need for to look and see who was in it. Padmé could feel Anakin's angst rumbling around him, but his presence became more alert as he sensed her rousing. 

Shifting in his seat, he peered back at her through the gap between his leathery headrest and the wall. "Are you alright?" he mumbled softly, his eyes scanned her up and down.

Padmé nodded her head. It took more willpower than she would like to get her muscles to move. They felt stiff and heavy. A tired ache claimed her body. She melted into her seat, her arms draped over the cushioned arm rests. The only part of her that felt lively enough to shift were her eyes. Padmé had no idea how they'd gotten into a ship or why they were hurtling through hyperspace. Her mind was fuzzy and she couldn't quite place her finger on the last thing she remembered. "What happened?" she whispered, her voice croaking. 

Anakin leaned his back against the wall and stared out of the viewport. The blue light sharpened the edges of his face and reflected in the twinkling of his eyes. The corners of his lips tugged downwards and he let out a deep sigh. "The clones attacked the temple," he responded, his voice wavering. 

A memory burst into the forefront of her mind. Screams. Blasters. The force filling with the dead. She squeezed her eyes shut. The memory shot a bit of life into her muscles, letting her lift her head up and furrow her brows. Padmé had been alone in a meditation chamber when a clone ran in. There was a blaster bolt heading right for her. Control had slipped out from under her like a carpet tied to a rancor. "Malice," she muttered beneath her breath. Tearing open her eyes she stared over at Anakin fearfully. He was watching her from beneath heavy lids. He nodded his head glumly. Padmé wearily lifted her arms and burrowed her face into her hands.

"It's okay," Anakin assured her gently. "I tracked her down and stopped her before she could escape the temple," he explained quietly. "All the other Jedi had fled by then." At least she hadn't escaped into the city and caused havoc. It could have been a lot worse if civilians were involved.

Pulling her head up from her hands, she stared up at him. Anakin was still watching her with sad eyes. It mustn't have been easy for him to fight both her and the troopers in such quick succession. They were both people he trusted so dearly. "Why did the clones attack?" asked, lowering her creaking arms back down to their rests.

"They were being controlled." A sharp edge lined his voice. Anakin's nostrils flared. Lines of muscle went taught in his neck. "They all have chips in them that made them turn against the Jedi." Pain burned in his eyes. It must have been nearly impossible for him to kill his comrades knowing that they had no choice but to fight him. Her heart ached for the Jedi. "Palpatine used them to purge thousands of Jedi all across the galaxy." He pressed his lips into a thin line, his forehead crinkled into a scowl. "He's turned the senate against us and deemed us traitors of the republic that were scheming to take over." Padmé sucked in a gentle gasp. The one thing the Jedi were not, was traitors. They poured their heart into that war for the republic. For the people. It was unfair that he could twist their image so easily.

"I'm sorry, Ani," she whispered. Mustering all the strength inside her, she peeled herself from her seat and leaned towards him. He watched her with pained eyes, shaking his head slowly.

"It's not over yet," he responded, dragging his human hand down his face. "The remaining Jedi are regrouping." Padmé felt a little hope rising within her. "There's still a chance."

"Good," Padmé purred, slumping back into her seat. Her body strained with the effort and a whoosh of air rushed out past her lips. She knew this was the effect of her near death experience, but she couldn't help feeling a little annoyed at herself for being so sluggish when Anakin was clearly upset.

"If you're tired, you should go back to sleep," he whispered. Concerned eyes held her half-lidded gaze.

Padmé shook her head. "I don't think it's the kind of tired you can sleep off," she responded, her voice croaking. A sad smile curled her lips. Anakin's eyes flicked away. 

"I'm so sorry, Padmé," he told her, gripping the back of his neck with his human hand. "It's my fault you wear out so easily now," his voice cracked. Padmé lifted her brows as he brought his guilty gaze back to hers. "The doctor that was poisoning you, I knew something was off with him. I should have acted quicker." His voice trailed into a pained wheeze, water sprung to his eyes. He glared out at the viewport. "I was too angry and aggressive when we were questioning him, that’s how he knew we were suspicious of him. It's why he administered the final poison."

"As I understand it," Padmé responded calmly. "Without that final poison, Malice would never have seized control and broken us free." Anakin cocked a brow in careful consideration. "You probably, unwittingly, saved my life," she told him with a soft voice.

Anakin's brows tugged together. "I shouldn't have let it get that far." With a sharp huff he stared out of the viewport. "I was also the reason you were in that tank in the first place." Tears pooled into his eyes. "I hurt you real bad Padmé," his voice shook. A few glistening droplets dropped from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. They twinkled with the blue light of hyperspace. "I nearly killed you more than once."

Padmé pressed her lips together. With a strained grunt, she leaned forwards and placed a hand delicately on the side of his face. Her body trembled with the effort. Brushing a tear away with her thumb, she sent him a sorrowful smile. "You were just doing your duty," she whispered reassuringly. "You had no way of knowing." He leaned into her palm. "I told you once that you would be the last person in the galaxy to willingly hurt me. That truth still stands." Anakin's aching soul reflected in his eyes. "Its all over now. I'm not hurting anymore so don't let it hurt you." 

Anakin tilted his head and placed a soft kiss on her palm. "I love you," he spoke the words with such certainty that it made a warm joy fill her heart and pump throughout the length of her body. Her lips pulled up into a grin.

"Ani, I love you too."


End file.
